Star Trek: Constitution - The Incident At Pemra-3
by montyburns
Summary: The first adventure of the Galaxy-class USS Constitution, set in 2372. Now finished! Reviews welcomed and appreciated
1. Disclaimer & Forword

Standard Legal Disclaimer

Standard Legal Disclaimer and Foreword

The Star Trek universe is, of course, the creation of Gene Roddenberry and the rights to it (as we all know) are owned by Paramount. 

The characters presented here are my creations. Any similarity to living, dead, real and/or fictional people is unintended and coincidental. 

The stories presented here are works of my imagination and similarity to other works is also coincidental. All stories are posted on-line strictly for the enjoyment of myself, as well as anyone else who cares to read them. 

For those who wish to archive or distribute this story, please contact me and ask first. Thank-you. 

Special thanks goes to my beta readers, "Seleck" and Darrel Beach, for doing an excellent job on correcting my grammar mistakes which were committed in "Infinite Diversity and Infinite Combinations." Any remaining errors, of course, are mine alone. 


	2. Prologue

The Federation in the seventh decade of the twenty-fourth century was under siege

The Federation in the seventh decade of the twenty-fourth century was under siege. 

Seemingly on all sides, it was beset with hostile and implacable foes. Major adversaries – the Romulans, the Cardassians, the Borg, the Dominion – waited and watched, for their opportunity to take down "the dream given form" that was the Federation. Minor powers – for example, the Breen – were emboldened by the Federation's troubles, and bided their time, seeking the strongest power with which to ally themselves against the Federation. 

As always, it was the job of Starfleet to respond to these threats to Federation security. But Starfleet was not designed as a war machine. Intended primarily as a vehicle of exploration, it had nonetheless done its job well enough in defending the Federation's borders when it faced only one or two potential adversaries. Conviction, courage, technology – these things could and were used as a substitute for raw firepower in the Starfleet of the mid-24th century.

After the Borg invasion of 2366, everything changed. Starfleet saw it could no longer hold the line with the resources it hadat its disposal. Reluctantly, it was concluded that more firepower was needed.

Thus was born the Perimeter Defense Directive ("PDD" for short). The purpose of the PDD was simple – to design and construct new ships, weapons, defenses and technologies that would allow Starfleet to defend against multiple attackers simultaneously. Among its many aspects were two strategies for enhancing Starfleet's potential.

One strategy was to design entirely new classes of ships, incorporating cutting-edge technology and design. These ships would be stronger, faster, tougher, more agile than anything Starfleet had put into service before. Ships such as the _Defiant, Norway, Akira, Saber _and, eventually, _Sovereign _classes rolled out of the assembly facilities charged with building them.

And, indeed, these ships were everything promised. In the conflicts to come they would all serve with distinction and valor, making an significant contribution to the Federation's defense in the trying times ahead.

But there was a problem. The new ships provided Starfleet with quality – but could not provide what was really required, that is, ships in quantity. _More_ ships were needed, many more, if Starfleet was to fend off the attacks of so many varying enemies. New ships took time to design, new materials time to test, new designs time to prove. The new ships could not be constructed in the quantities Starfleet required. 

Enter Project Resurrection – the second shipbuilding strategy of the PDD. The philosophy behind Project Resurrection was simple: it would be faster and more cost-efficient to refurbish existing starships than to build new ones. The new ships might form the spearhead of the new Starfleet, but ships restored by Project Resurrection would form the mass of the fleet to shoulder the burden of the heavy work. 

At first, Project Resurrection drew its supply of ships from two sources: older starships still in service, like the _Excelsior- _and _Ambassador_-class starships, as well as retired starships mothballed throughout Federation salvage yards. Rearmed, refurbished and restored to active service, these ships soon began making valuable contributions to Federation security. Though not a spectacular success like the new starship project had been, Project Resurrection soon proved its value. Ships that at one time would never have been deployed in certain situation were now routinely able to do so. With its newly swollen ranks, Starfleet was able to reinforce its presence wherever and whenever required. 

Though a Galaxy-class starship, _Constitution_ was born out of Project Resurrection. After their initial success restoring older starship designs, the engineers in charge of Resurrection asked themselves a simple question. What would happen if they took the skills and methods learned so well from Project Resurrection, and applied them to a new ship of the line? If they could make an old cruiser a force once again, what could they do with a modern spaceframe built from scratch? 

_Constitution_ was chosen to answer this question because as a Galaxy-class starship, she was the most advanced type of ship then available. Also, she happened to be in the early stages of construction when the go-ahead was given to the Project Resurrection team to "enhance" a Galaxy-class starship. From the beginning, _Constitution_ would be a hybrid, a fusion of the restorative powers of Project Resurrection and the cutting edge technologies of the new starship designs. 

When the sister ship of the _Constitution_, U.S.S _Odyssey_, was destroyed in an encounter with the Jem'Hadar in the Gamma Quadrant, the project took on even greater significance. More resources were diverted to the construction of _Constitution_, and she was completed and ready for her initial shakedown cruises on stardate 48115 – only a month after the destruction of the _Odyssey_. 

_Constitution_ immediately caused a controversy within Starfleet and the Federation Council itself. Many people were shocked by****what the engineers had come up with. In addition to the standard fittings for a Galaxy-class starship, _Constitution_ was outfitted with ablative armor, pulse phaser cannons, quantum torpedoes, pivoting warp nacelles and an external sensor pod. 

There could be no mistaking the primary purpose of such a vessel, and the Council was divided on whether or not it was wise to commission it. One school of thought, the "hawks", saw this ship as "sending a message" to the various hostile powers of the quadrant that Starfleet had both the will and the capability of defending itself against all comers. They favored granting Project Resurrection their request to move ahead with the shakedown cruise and were led by the Andorian, Earth and Tellarite delegations in the Federation Council.

The other group, the "doves", were appalled at the mere notion of the Federation building what appeared to be a battleship. They pointed out that such a ship would indeed "send a message" - that the Federation was arming for a war of conquest; a message that would be just as likely to set off the Federation's hostile neighbors as intimidate them. Among the most vocal critics of the proposal were the Vulcans, Centauri and Betazeds. 

After a long and sometimes acrimonious debate, the decision was made to allow the shakedown cruise to move ahead. It soon became apparent that the engineers of Project Resurrection had done an outstanding job on the new starship. _Constitution_ proved to be faster, capable of withstanding far more damage, and possessing much greater firepower than an average _Galaxy-_class starship (which, already, was a vessel possessing impressive defensive capabilities!) Some on the Federation Council, even some of the "hawks", expressed concern that the engineers had in fact done "too good of a job". _Constitution_ had turned out to be an even more potent weapon than had initially been envisioned. Nonetheless, Starfleet had invested too much time and effort into the ship to end the project at this point, and on Stardate 48911, she was officially christened the U.S.S. _Constitution_, NCC – 75747, _Galaxy-_class ship of the line. Designed to counter the threat of hostile foes on all sides, _Constitution_ would soon be pressed into service – but against the one enemy no one had foreseen her ever having to fight. 


	3. Unwelcome news

Stardate: 49017

Stardate: 49007

Captain Joshua Travis glanced about the bridge of his new ship, the U.S.S. _Constitution_, with undisguised satisfaction. A twenty-two year Starfleet veteran, Travis was an experienced captain and the man who had been chosen to command the _Constitution_ now that it was a ship of the line, and not an experimental test bed. 

A lanky man of medium height, with dark salt-and-pepper hair (lately, there seemed to be a lot more salt than pepper), Travis was the kind of man Starfleet officers sought out to serve under. Intelligent, bold, and with a near-perfect service record, he had acquired an excellent reputation in Starfleet. A planetary geologist by training, he was one of a rare breed of officers from Starfleet's sciences branch who went on to serve as a commanding officer on a large starship. He had also served in the Cardassian war some years earlier, and the combination of solider and scientist made him the perfect choice to command a controversial ship like _Constitution_. Starfleet's search for a commanding officer, in fact, had been extensive. Many within the Federation Council had insisted that whoever was selected as her captain could not be a "cowboy". Travis fit the bill perfectly. 

For the last week he had spent his time getting settled in and familiar with the ship. His crew had slowly arrived, coming as they were from different parts of the Federation. He had chosen them all very carefully, and while he had not got his first choice in a couple of instances, he was more than happy with the crew he had ended up with. They were a good mix of skills, experiences and temperaments. Or so Travis hoped. He had not served with any of them before, which was a bit unusual but becoming more common in the Starfleet of today. With the fleet being greatly expanded, more officers were required, and experienced officers were in great demand. The only solution for Starfleet was to spread out its experienced officer core on to as many ships as possible. This meant that a lot of crews these days were meeting each other for the first time. 

The voice of his new Operations officer, Lieutenant (Junior Grade) Navat snapped Josh into the here and now. "Captain, we're being hailed by Admiral Quinn."

Josh nodded. Quinn was the resident admiral of Starbase 313, which _Constitution_ was currently in orbit around. 313 was a massive facility, meant both as a linchpin of Starfleet's defenses in this sector, and also as a major starship construction facility for Project Resurrection. _Constitution_ had been based here during her shakedown cruise. 

"On screen," he ordered. 

Navat, a J'Naii, nodded and taped his console. The image of Admiral Sarah Quinn appeared on the screen. Though well into middle age, she gave the appearance of youthful vigor. "Good afternoon, Captain Travis. How are things going? Has your crew made it aboard yet?"

Josh knew that this was just small talk, that the Admiral likely knew very well where his crew as. "Yes, Admiral. Everybody's on board. In fact, all the checks have been done. We're ready to go any time you give the order."

Quinn nodded. "Good. You're going to be departing right away. We've had a situation come up that is of the utmost urgency. Have your ship ready to leave in 4 hours."

Josh raised an eyebrow. The pace of work for the past week had not been rushed, one might have even called it relaxed. Now, suddenly, Starfleet was in a big hurry. What was going on?

There was only one way to find out. "Can I ask what's happened, Admiral?"

The Admiral sucked in her breath, thinking over Josh's request for a brief instant. Finally, exhaling, she said, "Yes. The Klingons have invaded Cardassia."


	4. The mission

Josh couldn't believe his ears

Josh couldn't believe his ears. "Cardassia? Why would the Klingons want to invade Cardassia?" he asked. 

He was in the main briefing room on Starbase 313, along with Admiral Quinn, several of her top aides, and a few commanding officers from other ships.

"The Klingons believe that the recent coup on Cardassia was driven by changelings who have infiltrated the government there. The Klingons' purpose is to destroy Cardassia to prevent the Dominion from gaining a foothold in the Alpha Quadrant."

There were murmurs throughout the room as the Admiral said this. Invading Cardassia, even a Cardassia weakened by revolution and war, was a formidable task. Requiring a massive investment of military resources, it could not be brushed aside as an "incident" or "border skirmish". This was a war; the real thing. 

And the Federation was caught in the middle. "The Federation Council has officially condemned the invasion and refused to offer Starfleet's assistance. In response, the Klingons have torn up the Khitomer Accords and attacked Federation ships and installations. Our alliance with them is now ended, and in fact, in standing with the Cardassians, we are officially at war with the Klingons."

The room erupted into gasps of astonishment as the Admiral broke the news. Almost every Starfleet captain expected war. But everyone had assumed that when war came, the Klingons would be allies, not enemies. Now, Starfleet would have to stand against them – and to protect the Cardassians, of all people.

There was silence for a moment. Then, Josh asked the question that was on everyone's mind. "Are the Klingons right? Are the Founders involved with Cardassia?"

Admiral Quinn eyed Josh squarely and gave the only answer she could: "We don't know."

Everyone exchanged grim glances, and someone asked, "What are our orders?"

Quinn replied, "A colony of Federation citizens on the Cardassian side of the demilitarized zone, Pemra-3, is directly in the way of an anticipated Klingon offensive. The Cardassians have given us permission to cross the Zone and evacuate the colony. _Constitution_ will serve as the lead vessel for this assignment, and Captain Travis will be in command of the task force. The rest of you will get your assignments en route."

"I want to be clear," the admiral continued sternly. "This is not an offensive incursion. You go in, evacuate the colony, and get out. If we have to engage the Klingons to achieve this, we will. If not, so much the better. Have your ships and crews ready. You leave in four hours. Dismissed."

An ominous quiet hung over the room. Many of the officers in the room had never been involved in a war. One by one, silently, they got up and filed out.

Quinn called out, "Captain Travis. I'd like you to stay a moment, please."

Josh nodded. "Aye, sir." He had a feeling this would be coming. 

Quinn waited until the others had left, leaving only herself and Josh in the room. She eyed Travis directly and spoke plainly. "I just wanted to tell you, Josh, that this isn't going to be an easy mission. Reports from Starfleet Intelligence make it clear you're almost certainly going to encounter Klingon ships along the way. I hope you won't get involved in a serious firefight, but to be perfectly frank I'm not very optimistic. The Klingons aren't going to let us move in and out of Cardassian space without making it difficult."

Travis nodded. "I figured as much, Admiral."

She gave him a tense smile, then said, "Then you've probably realized that in any serious battle, _Constitution_ is going to be on the front lines. She's the best ship in my task force. I'll need you to cover the other ships if we're to get the colonists out in one piece."

Josh was also well aware of that. Aloud, he said only, "Understood, Admiral." Intentionally, he kept the mood carefully formal. Admiral Quinn, he knew, was not one who reacted well to overly sentimental moments. 

The Admiral was an old friend. She had been close with his parents, with his family, ever since Josh had been a small child. Later, when Josh had turned eighteen, she had sponsored his application to Starfleet Academy. He could tell when she was worried, even behind the granite façade she put up. In her own way, he knew, she was trying to tell him to be careful.

She smiled, more warmly this time. "Good. It's a tough assignment, Josh. That's why I gave it to you."

"Don't worry, Admiral. You can count on me. We'll get it done."

"That's what I wanted to hear. Dismissed."


	5. Engage, retreat

Quietly, swiftly, efficiently, Constitution glided through the infinite blackness of space, hurtling towards its destination at the almost unimaginable speed of Warp Nine, or roughly sixteen hundred times the speed of light

Quietly, swiftly, efficiently, _Constitution _glided through the infinite blackness of space, hurtling towards its destination at the almost unimaginable speed of Warp Nine, or roughly sixteen hundred times the speed of light.

Sixteen hundred times the speed of light: almost two trillion kilometers per hour. An extraordinary speed, but then, _Constitution _was an extraordinary ship. Built as the flagship of Project Resurrection, she was the showcase for skills and imagination of a dedicated group of engineers and designers, people who had put five years of their life into the task of breathing life into old ships. Ships that in a more gentle age would be long since retired. Ships that were way past their original warranty period. 

Most of the ships in the task force were rebuilt by Project Resurrection. There was the _Sagittarius_, a Constellation-class vessel, as well as _Bonaventure_, a Miranda-class vessel, and _Halifax_, an Excelsior-class ship. These were older ships rebuilt after a considerable period of service in Starfleet. _Bonaventure_ had been mothballed entirely. 

_Constitution_ was special and well-known because she was a brand-new spaceframe to which the principles and new technologies of Project Resurrection had been applied. There was a lot of pressure on the ship, the crew, and Josh personally to perform well. 

For this reason, he had taken considerable care in selecting his crew, even more so than the usual painstaking process Starfleet captains go through. The ship could be the best in the galaxy, Josh believed, but it was nothing without a great crew.

He had deliberately chosen officers who had not served with him previously. He wanted a clean slate and a diverse group of experiences, perspectives, and philosophies. In general, he looked for officers with a track record of speaking up, officers who weren't afraid of a little vigorous debate – but also officers who weren't too stubborn to admit when they were wrong or when someone had a better idea.

There was Commander Ivan Zhukov, his First Officer. A giant of a man, and a twenty-year Starfleet veteran, Zhukov was known by his nickname, "Ivan the Terrible", and it suited him. Cool, distant and all business, Zhukov didn't care whether his crew liked him or not – so long as they respected him. Demanding and even a bit of a taskmaster, he gave his all and expected nothing less from his crew. In addition to all this, Josh had picked Zhukov because of the big Russian's painstaking attention to detail. Josh was a delegator by nature and wanted someone who paid close attention to details, someone he could trust to take care of business. Zhukov fit the bill perfectly. 

Lieutenant Commander Visch j'Ordan, a Bolian, served as Security Chief and second officer. Like Zhukov, Visch was utterly devoted to his ship and crewmates, and would willingly lay down his life for any Starfleet comrade anytime, anywhere. Unlike Zhukov, Visch was more aggressive by temperament and more inclined to take risks and advocate courses of action that weren't entirely by the book. In addition to being a first-rate security officer, Visch was the kind of officer people liked serving under, and Josh also felt he would make a good counter-weight to the cautious, by-the-book Ivan Zhukov.

Lieutenant Renar Saben served as Chief Engineer. Although Saben – a joined Trill - was eccentric and a bit of a snob, Josh had chosen him as Chief Engineer because of his obvious talents and because of the fact that Saben had spent nearly ten years in the Galaxy-class design project. Few engineers anywhere in Starfleet knew the Galaxy-class vessel as well as Lieutenant Saben. Despite his social quirks and less-than-perfect personality, Josh felt that Saben was the obvious candidate to serve as chief engineer. 

The Operations Manager position was held by Lieutenant (Junior Grade) Navat, a J'Naii. Unlike all of the other senior officers, Navat was a rookie, fresh out of Starfleet Academy. That was the reason Josh had selected Navat;****with so many highly experienced officers, Josh figured that it a young, fresh-faced Starfleet graduate would be just the thing to generate new ideas and keep up the general enthusiasm level of the group. Plus, Navat was one of the most brilliant Academy graduates in some time, a fact reflected by Navat's graduating rank of Lieutenant (JG). Like all J'Naii, Navat was an androgynous being and Josh and the other crew had struggled with the use of pronouns, since neither "he" nor "she" was really appropriate. Finally, Navat had flipped a coin to settle the issue, and a result of "heads" had indicated that the crew would use "she" as a pronoun when referring to Navat. Unconcerned about such trivial gender-related issues but eager to make life easier for her crewmates, Navat had readily agreed to this arrangement. 

Doctor Julie Kramer was one-quarter Betazoid, three-quarters human and one hundred percent Australian. Like Navat, Kramer was young, barely thirty-three years old, but was considered one of the finest doctors to graduate from Starfleet Medical in some time. Unlike the sober, serious, workaholic Navat however, Kramer was notorious for her bizarre sense of humor and served as the ship's self-appointed Chief Practical Joker. Her goofy, irrepressible personality made it impossible to dislike her, and she worked well with any team of people. In addition to her formidable medical skills, Josh liked the idea of an empath as one of his senior officers – one never knew when such skills would come in handy. Kramer was also supremely self-confident; she had applied for the job when a posting for Chief Medical Officer, U.S.S. _Constitution_, had come up. In her covering letter to Josh, she had simply written "I am the best medical officer you will find", and she had been right. If most anyone else had tried such a stunt, Josh would have dismissed it as sheer arrogance – and Kramer was in fact a bit arrogant – but there was something about her personality that led one to overlook such conclusions. 

Finally, there was Jylana, ship's counselor and a Ullian by birth. Cool, mysterious, gentle and ethereal, she was probably the most intriguing of Josh's senior officers. Her background was a bit of a mystery, but Josh knew that somewhere along the way she had had a falling-out with the Ullian government and was considered a "dissident". This didn't affect her status in Starfleet – Jylana was merely a noteworthy critic of the Ullian government, not a political exile – but nonetheless, in the ever-harmonious Federation, a citizen publicly at odds with her government was rare. It was, in fact, what had caught Josh's attention and the reason he had selected her, Jylana's qualifications as a counselor aside. 

As a whole, they were an outstanding unit. Each one of them was quirky and a bit eccentric in their own ways, but Josh felt this was a positive thing – people with their own odd habits could be expected to be more tolerant of such quirks in others. And each was absolutely a top-notch officer in their chosen fields. They had earned their way to the top, and to a position in the senior crew of one of the Federation's leading starships. 

The position of Chief Science Officer was still open, but Josh had plenty of applicants for the job and he was sure he'd have the position filled within days. But with the mission to Pemra-3, he had simply been too busy to pay it much heed at the moment. When he got back he could take care of it. 

Now, as _Constitution_ and the rest of the task force approached the Demilitarized Zone (the "DMZ") on the Cardassian/Federation border, they were all on duty, the ship at Yellow Alert. With their cloaking technology, the Klingons could appear anywhere, anytime, and the Starfleet ships had to be ready for that possibility. 

"Status, Mr. Visch?" Josh asked, transferring his thoughts back to the here and now.

Answering immediately, Visch replied, "We have crossed the border into the DMZ and are on course for Pemra-3. Estimated time of arrival: sixty-three hours."

Josh already knew that. "Any sign of the Klingons?" he asked quietly. 

Visch consulted his instruments, then replied, "Negative. All ships in the task force report that their sensors are clear."

Josh nodded. He knew the sensors were not really 'all clear': the Cardassians were desperately attempting to hold the line against the Klingon onslaught. But at this moment, there were no Klingon vessels that posed a threat to the task force, and that was all that counted to Josh. 

Zhukov, seated next to Josh in the command area of the bridge, spoke up. "Sir, I suggest we run a series of continuous battle drills. We should be prepared to engage the Klingons at any time."

Josh nodded. A scientist by training, he hated the notion of battle drills and all that they represented, but as a Starfleet captain he knew they were necessary. Aloud, he replied, "Very well, Mr. Zhukov. Schedule your drills. Keep me informed."

"Aye, sir," the burly Russian answered. Getting up, Zhukov lumbered to a nearby workstation.

Just then, the shrill sound of the Red Alert Klaxons broke the silence. "Report!" Josh demanded.

Visch consulted his instruments and replied, "Three Klingon Birds-of-Prey have decloaked less than five thousand meters off the port bow."

"Shields up! Battle stations!" Zhukov ordered instantly.

"Mr. Visch, what is the status of the Klingons?" Josh asked. He found it odd that the Klingons would decloak so close when they were outnumbered and outgunned. "Are they preparing to fire weapons?"

Visch shook his head. "No, sir," he replied. "They appear to be scanning us."

"Navat, open a channel to the lead Klingon vessel."

The J'Naii did as ordered. "Open, sir."

Josh said, "This is Captain Joshua Travis of the Federation starship _Constitution_ to Klingon vessels. You are operating under cloak in Federation territory. Please open communications and explain your intentions."

Josh waited for a moment. Silence. "Klingon vessels. You are in violation of Federation territory. If you do not open communications I will be forced to conclude your intentions are hostile. Be advised we will take the steps necessary to ensure…"

Visch cut him off in mid-sentence. "Sir, the Klingons have re-cloaked. They're gone."

Josh glanced at his first officer. "Reconnaissance mission?" he asked.

Zhukov nodded. "Undoubtedly. Even the Klingons would not initiate a fight when the odds were so heavily against them."

There was an urgent chirping sound, and Navat said, "Captain Travis, you have an incoming hail from Admiral Quinn."

"On screen."

Quinn's image appeared on the viewscreen. "Well Captain, I see the Klingons sent a greeting party out to meet you. Are you all right?" The question was, of course, purely rhetorical.

"Fine sir," Josh replied. "They didn't seem interested in fighting."

"Any idea why they decloaked so close to you?" Quinn asked.

Josh shrugged. "We did detect a sensor scan after they decloaked, but that doesn't make much sense. Unless I've completely forgotten Klingon technology, they can use sensors while cloaked."

"Maybe they didn't want to take the chance of revealing their position under cloak with no weapons or shields," the admiral speculated. While sensors would function under cloak, their use could reveal a ship's position to an alert enemy. Ships traveling under cloak didn't have enough power to run the shields or weapons, and was,****therefore, a sitting duck. 

"Well, one thing's for sure," Josh said, "They know we're here now."

The Admiral didn't seem concerned. "We all expected that. Perhaps if they got a good look at us they'll be reluctant to engage such a powerful group in battle." Although it was tough to do, the Admiral was clearly trying to find some good in the situation. 

Josh was unconvinced, but didn't let on. "Hopefully, sir." 

Admiral Quinn signed off and the screen went blank. 

Zhukov thought, _Or perhaps it will encourage the Klingons to send an even larger battle fleet against us to ensure a 'glorious battle'._ Wisely, however, the first officer kept his thoughts to himself.


	6. A race against time

A few days later, the task force was approaching the Pemra system

A few days later, the task force was approaching the Pemra system. 

Josh had taken a good deal of time to study the situation on Pemra-3. A small world, midway in size between Mars and Earth, Pemra was arid and cold. Unlike Mars, Pemra's atmosphere was breathable – but only barely – and the climate was just moderate enough to be livable in the equatorial area. Pemra had few natural resources and would not normally have attracted much attention, but for two things. First, the colony had once sat on the nexus of several interstellar trade routes and was a natural stopping-off point for starships and their crews to get some rest and repairs. From Pemra, several destinations presented themselves. After Pemra had changed hands and fell into Cardassian possession, its importance as a trading outpost had declined, but its location was the reason it was attracting renewed attention from the Klingons. 

Second, the planet was dotted with the ruins of some ancient, long-gone civilization that had once inhabited the place. At first, the Cardassians and Bajorans both claimed that the ruins had been built by their ancient starfaring ancestors, but these claims were soon debunked by Federation research teams. In point of fact, despite two decades of intensive study, no one had yet been able to determine who had built the ruins, or what had happened to them. All that anyone knew for sure was that it was a technologically advanced civilization, and that it was old in the extreme. 

Originally a Federation colony, Pemra had found itself on the Cardassian side of the border after the Federation had signed a peace treaty with the Cardassians. Rather than relocate, the colonists had elected to live under Cardassian rule. Small, cold, and short on useful resources, the Cardassians weren't interested in the place and were content to follow a policy of "live and let live" with the colonists. 

Currently, there were some twenty-nine thousand colonists on Pemra-3, mostly human but with a smattering of other races, Vulcans and Andorians most notably. When the Klingons invaded Cardassian space, Pemra found itself in the path of several possible Klingon offensives and had asked the Cardassians for help in protecting the colony. When this wasn't forthcoming, the citizens of Pemra decided that now, unlike after the Cardassian treaty, was the time to move. Cardassian rule was harsh but tolerable; Klingons on the warpath were not. When the Cardassians had denied Pemra's request for assistance, the colonists had requested permission from the Cardassians for a Federation task force to evacuate the colony, which was quickly granted. 

Once more, Josh found himself pulled out of a lull by the sounding of Red Alert. Striding on to the bridge from his Ready Room, he was quickly brought up to speed by Zhukov. 

"Three Klingon Vor'cha-class attack cruisers have decloaked and are on an intercept course for our position," the Russian first officer reported. "They have activated weapons and shields and will be within firing range in less than two minutes." Zhukov gave his report as if it were utterly routine; Josh observed that nothing seemed to phase the man.

If only it was routine, Josh reflected. But the Vor'cha class attack cruiser was the most formidable ship in the Klingon fleet, capable of giving even a power pack like _Constitution_ a serious fight. Although the Klingons seemed to be outnumbered by the twelve approaching Starfleet ships, Josh knew that for every attack cruiser he could see, there were probably three additional smaller Klingon vessels lurking nearby under cloak. If his guess was correct, that made the odds twelve on twelve. The Starfleet task force might have a small edge in overall firepower, but the Klingons would compensate for that with an astonishing disregard for life and limb that the Starfleet crews would not and could not match. 

Assuming his seat in the captain's chair, Josh ordered, "Lieutenant Navat, open a channel."

"Open, sir."

Josh repeated his first hail to the Klingons, several days earlier, almost verbatim. "This is Captain Joshua Travis of the Federation starship _Constitution_ to Klingon vessels. Please open communications and explain your intentions."

To Josh's surprise, this time his hail was answered. "They are answering, sir," Navat said simply.

"On screen."

The viewscreen flickered, and upon it came up the image of the ugliest Klingon Josh had ever seen. Powerful, squat, heavy set, he was craggy faced, with extremely dense eyebrows and a pugnacious protruding nose, giving this Klingon a somewhat demonic appearance. To complete the look, several nasty scars ran down the left side of his face, as if the skin on his face had been badly peeled off. 

He didn't waste any time in getting down to business. "I am General Kalor of the Imperial Klingon Fleet. I am the commander of all Klingons units in this area. What is it that you want?"

"I think I asked that question first," Josh answered sharply. There was no point in subtlety; the Klingons neither recognized nor respected it. "You're operating in Federation space. More to the point, your ships are fully armed and ready for battle. So I repeat: what are your intentions, General? You should understand that while we are not looking for a fight, we can and will defend ourselves if necessary."

Kalor let out something between a contemptuous snort and mocking laughter. "Brave words, Captain! I commend you for them. But it will take much more than idle threats to frighten Klingon warriors. You ask what our intentions are. Very well, I shall tell you. Our orders are to secure this sector of space from all non-Klingon vessels. That includes Starfleet vessels. If you do not withdraw from this area immediately, we will take any steps necessary to ensure the security of this area."

Josh stood up from his chair and drew himself up to his full height. "Idle threats don't impress _us_****either, General," Josh shot back. He could feel himself losing patience with this Klingon, and struggled to maintain a diplomatic stance. Lives depended on his words and actions. "We are a Federation evacuation fleet operating in a Federation system, with the permission of the Cardassian government. We mean no harm to you. Let us evacuate our people and we will leave peacefully."

"That will not be possible," Kalor snarled, and terminated his transmission. 

So much for that, Josh thought.

"Sir, the Klingons are opening fire!" Visch reported.

"Shields to maximum. Helm, evasive maneuvers," Josh ordered. 

His officers complied with their orders just as the ship was plastered by a ferocious volley of disrupter fire. The ship rocked about as the inertial dampeners were momentarily overwhelmed by the energy surge. 

"Damage report!" Zhukov demanded.

Visch consulted his instruments. "They hit us with a pretty good shot. Shields are at eighty percent, but there is no damage to key subsystems or reports of casualties."

"Hail them, Mr. Visch,' Josh ordered, even as the ship was pounded once again. Visch tapped his console and nodded at Josh, indicating an open channel. "This is Captain Travis of the _Constitution _to all Klingon ships," he began. "Break off your attacks or we will be forced to return fire."

The only answer was another punishing Klingon salvo. "Shields at fifty percent," Visch informed Josh. "And we've got several Birds-of-Prey decloaking and attacking other ships in the task force."

"Which ones?" Josh asked. 

Zhukov answered, "The _Halifax, Louis Riel _and _Khitomer_ are all under attack. The others have taken sporadic hits but nothing serious."

Josh thought quickly. "They're targeting our bigger ships and leaving the smaller ones alone," he said.

"Testing our defenses?" Zhukov asked. 

"Exactly," Josh replied, just as _Constitution_ shook from another Klingon attack.

"Shields at forty-five percent," Visch warned. 

"Arm all weapons, Mr. Visch. Target the pulse phaser cannons on their engines and weapons, full power." As Josh well knew, half-measures against a Vor'cha class attack cruiser were a waste of time. 

"Ready, sir."

"Fire!"

__

Constitution wheeled about and locked on to one of the offending Klingon vessels, closing in daringly on her target. Once within point-blank range, she opened up with a ferocious volley of energy fire that pumped out across space and smashed into the Klingon vessel's port engine. 

"Direct hit!" Visch reported. "Enemy shields at forty percent. They're moving away to regroup and recharge their shields."

"Good work, Mr. Visch," Josh reported. "Have _Majestic_ and _Bonaventure_ come up and support the _Halifax_."

Zhukov transmitted the message to the other ships. "_Louis Riel_ is under attack from four Birds-of-Prey and has suffered damage to her starboard warp nacelle," he reported. He looked at Josh and asked, "Should we…."

Josh knew what his first officer was about to suggest and cut him off in mid-sentence. "No, not yet. I don't think this is a life and death struggle. Contact _Sagittarius_ and have them help out the _Louis Riel_. And order our remaining ships to move into line with _Constitution_ and concentrate their fire on the two undamaged attack cruisers."

Within seconds the Starfleet vessels had received and executed their orders. Regrouped, they faced the Klingon force squarely. Space flashed brightly as lethal torrents of white-hot energy flashed across the vacuum and smashed into the shields of the opposing forces. 

The two sides were quite evenly matched. In general, the Klingon ships were smaller and much more maneuverable, weaving and darting around the larger Starfleet cruisers, threatening to disrupt the cohesiveness of their formation. On the other hand, the Starfleet ships were well armored and possessed a small overall advantage in firepower. 

Breaking off from the main group, one daring Bird-of-Prey swooped in and hit _Constitution_ with several nasty photon torpedo attacks, using the firepower of General Kalor's attack cruiser as cover. 

One of these hits made it through the shields and scored damage on the big ship's outer skin. "Outer hull damage on deck nine," Visch reported. "Force fields in place and holding."

Again, the daring Bird-of-Prey flew in tight and fast, delivering another blow on _Constitution's_ wounded area. Fortunately, the big ship's shields held this time, deflecting the attack harmlessly into space. 

"I've just about had enough of this," Josh growled. "Commander Zhukov, I want that ship out of the sky, now!"

Zhukov nodded. The orders were clear enough: no more pulling punches. "Aye, sir."

Ordering _Constitution_ on a new course, Zhukov had the big ship hone in on the offending Bird-of-Prey. Ignoring several powerful blasts from other Klingon vessels and relying on the other Starfleet vessels to cover her, _Constitution_ relentlessly closed in on its tormentor. The Klingon vessel dodged and weaved, desperately attempting to evade _Constitution's_ pursuit, but to no avail. Using her superior impulse speed, the big ship effortlessly closed in on the doomed Klingon vessel.

"We're in optimum firing range," Visch reported. 

"Lock quantum torpedoes," Zhukov ordered. 

"Target locked."

"Fire."

A handful of powerful torpedoes burst forth from _Constitution's_ forward weapons array and honed in mercilessly on the small Klingon vessel. Pounding into the Bird-of-Prey with pinpoint accuracy, they quickly overwhelmed the small ship's shields. In seconds, it was all over, as the Klingon vessel evaporated in a flash of light and searing heat. 

Just then, Visch reported, "The Klingon ships have broken off their attack and are re-cloaking, sir."

Navat asked, "Is that it? They're retreating? Have we won?"

Josh shook his head. "Not retreating, Lieutenant,****re-deploying. That wasn't a full-fledged battle we just fought; more like a skirmish. They were just testing us to get a feel for how much firepower we have. General Kalor will be back, and he'll bring reinforcements with him."

Zhukov said, "According to Starfleet Intelligence, the nearest major formation of Klingon ships is approximately twenty-four hours away."

There was an ominous silence on the bridge for a moment. Finally, Josh said, "Then we have one day at most****to get the colonists evacuated and get ourselves out of here, before Kalor comes back with some serious reinforcements."

It was now a race against time. 


	7. Murphy's Law

Transporting twenty-nine thousand people off the surface of a planet was a daunting task

Transporting twenty-nine thousand people off the surface of a planet was a daunting task. Trying to accomplish it in less than a day was nearly impossible, as Josh well knew. The odds of a serious confrontation with the Klingons grew greater by the hour. Complicating matters was the fact that not all twelve Starfleet ships could be engaged in the business of transporting the colonists. At any given time, a few ships had to stay at combat alert, with shields and weapons at the ready, to guard against the possibility of a surprise Klingon attack. A starship in low orbit, with its shields down and its resources dedicated to the transporter systems, would be a sitting duck against even a weakly armed opponent, and with hundreds or thousands of civilians on board, the result would be catastrophic. Therefore, _Constitution, Halifax _and _Louis Riel_ (a New Orleans-class frigate) – the three strongest ships in the task force - were given the job of guarding the rest of the fleet while the other nine ships evacuated the planet. This also meant, though, that the three ships with the greatest transporter capabilities couldn't lend their resources to get the job done quicker, which only added to the logistical nightmare. 

Nonetheless, progress was good and the evacuation went well at first. The Pemra-3 colonists were eager to get off the planet before they were swept away by the Klingon task force, and they were well organized and prepared when Starfleet finally showed up. They had packed the essential items they wanted or needed to take with them, and the colony's governors had drawn up an organized, well thought out evacuation plan. All of this gave Josh hope that they could pull this thing off without a major space battle against a Klingon battle fleet. But, being a believer in Murphy's Law, he also knew things were going too well, and sooner or later something would arise to royally screw things up.

That something, though of course he couldn't have known it at the time,****arrived in the form of a hail from the surface to Josh personally. Assuming it was one of the colony's governors needing to talk to him about a lost cat or misplaced work of art, he didn't think much of it as he answered the hail on the bridge's main viewscreen.

His expression quickly changed to a look of dumbfounded shock, however, as he caught a glimpse of who it was that was calling him from the surface.

A Vulcan woman, in her early middle age, with traditional jet-black hair and pale milky complexion, appeared on the screen. As with most members of her species, her demeanor was cool and aloof. 

"Hello, Joshua," she began.

His normally placid composure instantly shot, Josh swallowed hard and answered, "T'Katha. I…I didn't know you were on Pemra."

T'Katha gave Josh a severe look accented by an arched eyebrow that Vulcans everywhere had perfected. "I have been working in the ruins of Pemra-3 for over fifteen months. I find it surprising that you were unaware of my most recent assignment."

"I've been…pretty busy for the last year or so," Josh replied. It sounded lame and he knew it. His next thought was that this couldn't look good in front of his bridge crew. Glancing about the room, his suspicions were justified. Although Zhukov's granite expression betrayed no hints of his thoughts, Josh could clearly see a puzzled look on Navat's youthful face, and a definite hint of amusement in the eyes of the empathic Dr. Kramer. Unluckily for Josh, the doctor happened to be on the bridge at this moment, coordinating the evacuation of the colony's medical patients to various ships best equipped to handle their cases. 

Like all people, Captain Joshua Travis had his weak points and silly fears. Josh's particular hang-up was looking foolish in front of his crew. A perfectionist, he tended to think of the captain's position in slightly god-like terms and therefore any blemish, no matter how insignificant, was unacceptable. He knew it was an unrealistic and even absurd way to think, but it was part of who he was and he believed he was too old to change his ways. 

Therefore, retreat at this moment was the only acceptable alternative. "Lieutenant Navat, patch this transmission through to my Ready Room – now," he ordered, before ducking into the privacy of his sanctuary.

Dr. Kramer, who had been observing the captain through the entire episode, murmured to herself, "Well, well, well. Isn't that interesting."

Visch, who was standing next to her, asked quietly, "What?"

"Our captain, the man with nerves of steel when dealing with the Klingons in a life-threatening situation, turns into nervous teenager as soon as he sees this woman's face. She had him sweating, let me tell you. I could feel the fear without even trying," she giggled. 

Zhukov scowled at the gossipy doctor and growled, "I do not believe this conversation is appropriate, Doctor. I presume you have something more urgent with which to occupy your time." This last was an order, not a inquiry. 

Now it was Dr. Kramer's turn to be unnerved. She and Zhukov had not gotten off to the best start in the past couple of weeks, and the big Russian first officer intimidated her like no one she had ever met. She wasn't quite certain why – she wasn't prone to being intimidated and even others more physically imposing than Zhukov had not had the same effect on her – but she disliked the feeling immensely and tried to avoid Zhukov whenever possible. This wasn't hard; Zhukov hadn't visited Sickbay very often, and as long as there was no problem requiring his attention he was content to delegate mundane administrative responsibility to his department heads. Concentrating very hard on her console, she managed to mumble a confirmation that satisfied Zhukov and got rid of his unwanted attention.


	8. No point in arguing with a Vulcan

In his Ready Room, Josh tried to play it cool

In his Ready Room, Josh tried to play it cool. "What can I do for you?" he asked T'Katha as casually as he could manage. 

T'Katha cocked her head slightly, a habitual gesture Josh knew signified that she considered what she was about to say important. "I have made certain…discoveries in the Pemra ruins that I am reluctant to abandon at this time," she began.

Josh considered this for a moment. His initial reaction was _so what_? What discoveries could be important enough to risk life and limb to be wasting precious time with this conversation. If it had been anyone else, someone who Josh didn't know very well, he would have dismissed this out of hand. He simply had too much else to think about.

T'Katha though...that was another story. They had a history, the two of them, and he knew her well; _intimately_ well. He knew that she would not bring this to his, or any other captain's attention under the circumstances, unless it truly was important enough to warrant it. 

He also knew that this woman was the most tenacious, stubborn person he had ever met in his entire life. If he attempted to ignore something she felt to be of importance, she would simply persist at, well, _nagging_ him until he saw things from her point of view. No, it was far better all the way around to hear her out from the beginning, and get to the point as quickly as possible.

Aloud, he said, "I see." He kept his tone studiously neutral. "Can I inquire as to the nature of these 'discoveries'?"

He already knew the answer before he asked the question. "I would prefer not to discuss that over an open channel, Joshua. Perhaps you would be able to find the time to beam to the planet's surface and see for yourself."

Josh noticed that this was not phrased in the form of a question. "I can, but we're on a pretty tight schedule. I'm not sure what would be accomplished by me coming down to the surface for a closer look."

"I assure you, it will not be a waste of time. I would not ask if it were not truly important," she insisted. 

Josh sighed. There was little point in trying to argue with a Vulcan who had made their mind up. Especially _this_ Vulcan! "Fine," he replied, "I'll be down in five minutes. "Where should I meet you?" 

She transmitted a set of transporter coordinates; looking them over, Josh noticed they were underground. "I will meet you here then," she answered. 

Almost as an afterthought, she added, "It is agreeable to see you again, Joshua." Before he could reply, the screen went blank.

Josh let out a deep breath and rubbed his temples. Murphy's Law had struck again.

And T'Katha had gotten the last word in – again. 


	9. A big problem

Josh felt the familiar tingle of the transporter beam wash over him, and seconds later he found himself standing in a dark, dank cavern

Josh felt the familiar tingle of the transporter beam wash over him, and seconds later he found himself standing in a dark, dank cavern. Checking his tricorder, he could see that he was almost one hundred meters under ground. Since it was dark, he switched on his wrist-mounted flashlights. Glancing instinctively to his left, he saw the figure of Doctor Kramer. The auburn-haired physician was glancing about, examining her surroundings. 

"Not exactly a prime tourist destination," Kramer quipped. Zhukov had objected to Josh beaming down to the surface at all. But when Josh had refused to give in, the burly Russian had insisted that at least one other office accompany the captain. Kramer had quickly volunteered. 

"Starfleet – it's not just a job, it's an adventure," Josh jokingly replied. Although he had not known Kramer for very long, he already felt at ease with the informal, humorous Australian woman and enjoyed her company. 

"Joshua." 

Slightly startled, Josh spun around to see T'Katha standing behind him. How long had she been there, he wondered. Since he knew it was a foolish question he didn't bother to ask it aloud. 

"Well, I'm here," he said. Despite the fact it was cool, he could feel himself sweating. He decided to try some humor. Grinning, he added, "So far I don't see anything but a dingy old cavern." Then, more seriously, he added, "Where are we – below the ruins, aren't we?"

She regarded him with her dark, cool eyes. "Yes. We are presently standing in a connecting tunnel into a section of the Third City. That is our destination," she added.

"Third City?" Kramer asked.

She began walking, talking absently as she went. "These ruins were constructed by the same civilization, but at widely different points in time," she began. "The first set of ruins were constructed over a period of centuries, and represent a level of technology significantly less advanced than our own."

"Representing a time when this species was just starting out, like Earth four or five thousand years ago," Josh speculated, as he moved up alongside T'Katha and matched her smooth, even paces. 

"Correct. There was then a period of abandonment before the construction of the second city. Again, this place was inhabited for a significant period of time, by a people whose technological abilities were considerably greater than the original inhabitants of the city. By the time this Second City was abandoned, these people possessed technologies such as nuclear fusion and rudimentary artificial intelligence."

"Then it was abandoned again."

"Yes. You see a pattern forming. It should not surprise you to learn that the Third City was built by inhabitants with superior technology. They were clearly a warp capable species. We have also found evidence of replicators, transporters, and faster-than-light communications. We have also discovered certain technologies that appear beyond our own. We are uncertain as to what was the purpose of many of the artifacts we have discovered."

Josh was a bit uneasy now. "If there's advanced technology here, why didn't I know about it? Haven't you reported any of this to Starfleet?"

She glanced at him sharply. "Recall that I am not a Starfleet officer any longer, Joshua. I am not answerable to them. Nevertheless, to answer the intent of your question, I did indeed report my findings to the Federation Science Council. They have decided that, given our border difficulties with the Cardassians, these discoveries should be classified until we have a better understanding of their nature and purpose.'

"In case there's something dangerous that might fall into the wrong hands."

"Precisely," she replied tightly. Even though, as a Vulcan, she tried to maintain a neutral and passive expression at all times, Josh could tell from her demeanor that she wasn't thrilled with the decision of the Science Council. Of course not: T'Katha would want all of her work publicly documented as soon as possible. Anyone who believed that Vulcans didn't have egos didn't know them very well, Josh mused. 

"So I take it you've found something that you don't think should fall into the wrong hands?" he asked. 

She shrugged slightly as they turned a corner. The area was dimly lit with a soft, pulsing greenish light. "See for yourself," she replied.

Josh blinked, not believing his eyes at first. Then, realizing the magnitude of the problem he suddenly had on his hands, he groaned, "Oh, no."


	10. Battle stations!

Commander Ivan Zhukov kept a close eye on the evacuation as it unfolded hundreds of kilometers on the planet below

Commander Ivan Zhukov kept a close eye on the evacuation as it unfolded hundreds of kilometers on the planet below. Hundreds – no, thousands – of dedicated Starfleet officers were working overtime, pushing themselves to the limit to get the job done before the lives of the civilian colonists were in danger. Additionally, he kept a close eye on the intelligence reports coming on, keeping him and the rest of the task force updated on the latest developments in the Klingon invasion of Cardassia.

It was apparent to even the most casual observer that things were not going well for the Cardassians. The Klingon invasion had caught the Cardies completely by surprise; worse, the Cardassian military was disorganized and poorly led in the wake of the revolution there. Most of Cardassia's best officers had been executed by the revolutionaries, and it showed. The Cardassian strategic map lacked any sense of cohesion or direction. Instead of a unified whole working to defend their home, the Cardassian units were individual starships reacting to whatever the Klingons threw against them. A student of military strategy, Zhukov knew that such a weakness would be fatal against the Klingons. Unless there was a serious improvement in the quality of the Cardassian leadership, or a distraction of some sort to divert the Klingons, Cardassia Prime itself would be in danger. The Klingons, bloodthirsty and savage opponents, would inflict devastating casualties on their Cardassian victims. 

Although he knew better than to admit it, Zhukov didn't really care. The Cardassians had long been greedy, bombastic and hostile. They seemed to take special pleasure in constantly provoking their Federation neighbors. The long, bitter Cardassian war had been completely unnecessary, except for the fact that the Cardassians consistently refused to give up the fight. And their brutal occupation of Bajor – a peaceful and spiritual world if ever there was one – was a disgrace to any spacefaring civilization. 

Now, Zhukov believed, the Cardassians were getting what they deserved. If it had been up to him, the Federation would not have stood with the Cardassians against the Klingons, even if the Klingons weren't being very good allies. But those above him had decided otherwise, and Zhukov was not one to question orders. Above all, there had to be order, and order required a clear chain of command followed at all times by those within it. 

Captain Travis was another good example. At this critical moment in time, the captain had elected to beam down to the planet's surface. Zhukov believed strongly that the captain should be on the bridge throughout the evacuation. But Travis had decided otherwise, and Zhukov would never dream of contradicting his commanding officer in front of the crew. Privately, he had voiced his objections, but they had been overruled. 

So be it. All Zhukov could do was trust that Travis knew what he was doing. "Lieutenant Navat," he said, breaking his train of thought, "what is the current status of the evacuation?"

"We're about ninety-five percent done," Navat replied. "Give us another half an hour or so, and we should be ready to leave."

"Good," Zhukov growled. In spite of the inevitable foul-ups, the evacuation was proceeding ahead of schedule. Maybe they would be able to slip away without any further Klingon encounters….

Wrong thought. Just then, the steady voice of Mr. Visch reported, "Commander, sensors are detecting a force of Klingon warship decloaking dead ahead."

The security officer's words sent a chill throughout the bridge, but not Zhukov. Icily calm and without hesitation, he ordered, "Battle stations."


	11. Trouble

Josh was momentarily dumbfounded by the sight before him

Josh was momentarily dumbfounded by the sight before him. Gaping, he worked his jaws, trying to find the right words to express his astonishment. Finally, he managed to mumble, "I don't believe it."

T'Katha gave him another patented eyebrow arch. "Indeed? In spite of the fact that the evidence is right before your eyes?

Josh gave the Vulcan woman a sidelong glance. "It was meant rhetorically. You know that."

Kramer studied the object before them intently, a vexed look on her face. Finally, she said, "I don't know what this is."

T'Katha began, "Perhaps a better formulation of your remark might be, '_Who_ this is'. For what you are looking at presently is one of the oldest known intelligent entities in the universe."

The young doctor shook her head. "I still don't get it, I'm afraid. It just look like a big round rock with a hold in the middle to me."

Josh exhaled loudly. "Trouble, doctor, trouble. T'Katha's right; what you're looking at is an example of the oldest known alien intelligence yet encountered."

Once again, and more impatiently, Kramer asked, "So? What _is_ it?"


	12. Evening the odds

The Klingon battle group closed relentlessly on the Starfleet task force in the vicinity of Pemra-3

The Klingon battle group closed relentlessly on the Starfleet task force in the vicinity of Pemra-3. Checking his tactical display, Zhukov could see that they were approaching in force. The previous two engagements with the Klingons had been little more than skirmishes designed to test the capabilities of the Starfleet force. Not so this time: the Klingons were coming at them like bats out of hell. 

At least we won't have to worry about Klingon reinforcements skulking around under cloak, Zhukov thought. This time, the Klingons meant business. Any tactical advantage gained by remaining under cloak and joining the battle late would be negated by the dishonor of hanging back from the battle. Although they could be shifty and clever when it suited them, the Klingons were not this way once they committed to a battle. They would throw themselves at their opponent in a full frontal assault and rely on their to-the-death mentality to overwhelm the enemy. It was working well enough against the Cardassians. 

In true Klingon style, Zhukov could see the enemy was overconfident in their position. At first glance their arrogance might be justified, for the tactical display showed eighteen Klingon vessels – three Vor'cha-class heavy attack cruisers, a pair of K'Vort-class cruisers, one K'tinga-class warship and a dozen Birds-of-Prey against a dozen Starfleet cruisers. Worse, with nine of the Starfleet vessels engaged in evacuating the planet, the effective Starfleet fighting force was down to three ships. Though all were powerful heavy cruisers, they could not hope to stand against an adversary who so outnumbered them. 

"Hail coming in from the lead Klingon vessel," Visch reported. 

"On screen," ordered Zhukov.

The viewscreen blinked and the image of General Kalor appeared. "This is General Kalor commanding Klingon assault fleet to all Starfleet vessels," he began. "You are violating territory claimed by the Klingon Empire. Lower your shields and surrender your ships and your lives will be spared. Any resistance will be met with lethal force. This is your only warning."

Piqued at Kalor's bombast, Zhukov answered, "Negative on surrender. Pemra-3 is a colony of Federation citizens under Cardassian jurisdiction. We are here under the authority of the lawfully constituted Cardassian government. It is you who are in violation of this territory. If you attack us we will be forced to defend ourselves. Please stand down and leave this system at once."

Zhukov knew the Klingons were not interested in these legal niceties, but were merely going through the motions to prove they had given the Starfleet forces an opportunity to surrender, thus preserving their precious Klingon honor. In truth, they were itching for a fight and didn't want the Starfleet force to surrender. 

"Surely you jest," Kalor laughed scornfully. "You are outnumbered and do not stand a chance! My fleet will cut you to pieces with time left over to loot the planet," he boasted. 

"We shall see," Zhukov replied calmly, and motioned to Visch to end transmission.

"_Constitution_ to Captain Travis," he said, tapping his communicator. 

Waiting a moment for an answer, he repeated his hail to the planet-bound captain. "Zhukov to Captain Travis. Please respond."

Once again, silence. Zhukov raised an eyebrow but said nothing. The captain was not replying to communications. This was inconvenient but there wasn't time to ponder this development. 

Zhukov had other things to worry about, like the Klingon battle group bearing down on the Starfleet task force, eager to engage in a battle where the odds seemed to heavily favor the Klingons. Eighteen against three – who wouldn't like those odds? 

Time to even those odds, Zhukov decided. "Launch fighters," he ordered. 

Once before, Travis had scotched Zhukov's suggestion to launch fighters. It was not hard to understand why: the Klingons were clearly unaware that the Starfleet vessels were carrying military fighters in place of the usual full complement of shuttlecraft. They were the task force's ace up the sleeve, capable of changing the dynamic of a major confrontation in a huge hurry. With a pair of phaser banks and fifty "micro" photon torpedoes, they possessed a formidable armament. When working in a large group, they were capable of giving even an enemy battleship all it could handle. 

Visch transmitted the order to the entire fleet, and within seconds, an armada of the small, quick, highly maneuverable fighters streaked out of the shuttle bays of all twelve Starfleet vessels. Three fighter-escorts per ship, for a total of thirty-six fighters in total, streamed out and into formation with the three heavy cruisers charged with protecting the rest of the fleet. 

Now, the odds were thirty-nine to eighteen in favor of Starfleet, and Zhukov could draw upon the other cruisers to provide limited tactical support. Maybe Kalor would recognize he was in too deep and back off. It was probably a vain hope, Ivan reflected, but he had to try.

"This is Commander Zhukov on board the _Constitution_ to Klingon General Kalor. It is you who is outnumbered. Stand down, withdraw, and allow our evacuation to proceed. Our only concern is evacuating our civilian population. This situation can still be resolved without resorting to violence. Please respond."

For a long moment, the Klingon ships seemed to pause, as if considering the situation. For the tiniest fraction of an instant, Ivan held his breath, daring to hope against hope that the Klingons might actually use their brains and avoid a pointless battle. Maybe they would see that a fight was completely unnecessary; that all they had to do to take possession of this system was allow the Starfleet task force to leave. 

Then, the moment passed, and hopes shattered. The Klingon vessels pressed forward, shields up, weapons charged. 

In mere moments, the battle would be joined. 


	13. Questions and answers

"So, what is it

"So, what _is_ it?" Kramer asked.

The answer came from an unexpected quarter – the portal itself. 

"A question…since before your sun burned hot in space and before your race was born, I have awaited a question." The voice was strange, disembodied, as if it was being heard from a great distance away.

T'Katha regarded the object carefully. "Fascinating. This is the first occasion on which I have observed you interact with those around you."

Impatiently, Kramer repeated, this time to the portal, "If someone doesn't start making some sense I'm going to get very annoyed! Who are you?" she demanded.

"I am called the Guardian of Forever," the portal replied. 

"Oh," Kramer replied in a very puzzled voice. Clearly, she didn't have the slightest clue what that meant.

"A Guardian of Forever is one of the most ancient examples of advanced alien sentience known to exist in the galaxy," Travis explained quickly. "As it has just indicated, they're billions of years old. We don't know who created them or for what purpose. Up until now, only one was known to exist. It was discovered over a century ago by Captain James Kirk of _Enterprise_ fame, and Starfleet has made knowledge of the Guardian's existence strictly classified."

"Why?" Kramer asked, intrigued.

T'Katha interjected, "Because the Guardian of Forever is a time portal, Doctor. It is capable of transporting you to any point in time and space in the universe. Once there, changes can be made to the timeline, which can forever alter the course of history."

"Many such journeys are possible," the Guardian spoke up. "Let me be your guide. Observe!" it urged.

Looking at the portal, Kramer was startled to see that a number of scenes, like watching video clips on a monitor. Snippets of action from different times and places flashed before her eyes, disparate points in history. Some she recognized, others she did not. It was difficult to follow all the scenes, though, because they were flashing by in front of her eyes at such a rapid pace. 

"These are the events of what you would call your past," the Guardian explained. "You need only to step across my boundaries, and you will be transported to what was."

"How do you know who I am, what history is meaningful to me?" Kramer asked. "I mean, if you can take me to any place in the galaxy, how do you know what I'll recognize and what I will not?"

"I am my own beginning and my own end," the Guardian replied enigmatically. 

Kramer put her hands on her hips, pursed her lips and retorted, "That's not very helpful."

"To me, you are both what was and what will be," the Guardian elaborated. "I see you not only as you stand before me, but as you exist in the great stream of what you call time. To me, events that have preceded you are connected to you."

"Hold on a minute," Julie said. "Captain, you said that information regarding the Guardian was highly classified. I assume that means captain's-level security clearance or better?" she asked. 

"That's right."

Turning an accusing eye at T'Katha, she continued, "Then how do _you_ know so much about the Guardian, T'Katha? You're not even in Starfleet."

T'Katha nodded. "That is correct. However, I have…a unique perspective on this matter. An immediate family member of mine was present with Captain Kirk when the original Guardian was encountered."

"Who?"

"My father, Ambassador Spock. At that time he was serving as the first officer of Captain Kirk's _Enterprise_."

Kramer's eyes widened. "_You're_ Spock's daughter?" she asked, incredulous. 

"I believe I just stated that," T'Katha replied. 

"None of this matters," Josh interjected. "We're not going anywhere. Temporal Prime Directive and all that," he deadpanned. 

"Incorrect," the Guardian replied. "You already have."

Josh felt a headache coming on. "_What?_" he asked. 


	14. Disaster

The Klingon vessels came swooping in with reckless abandon, intent on their target, undaunted by the sudden increase in the size of the enemy fleet

The Klingon vessels came swooping in with reckless abandon, intent on their target, undaunted by the sudden increase in the size of the enemy fleet. Space, normally dark and cold, lit up as brightly as a dozen stars – and just as hot – as the two sides traded deadly streams of phaser and disrupter fire. The bigger ships – warships and cruisers – moved closer to one another, pumping lethal firepower at each other, trying to find a breaking point, straining to repel the fury of the enemy's attack. Meanwhile, the smaller fighters swarmed around, swooping in and out, picking away at their targets, evading the deadly retaliation. 

Space, normally placid, became a cauldron of fire and death, as the two sides locked in a desperate struggle for survival.

On the bridge of _Constitution_, Ivan Zhukov surveyed Starfleet's situation with the same reserve and calm with which he approached every situation. His strategy was very simple: to engage the Klingon forces as far away from the planet as possible, and buy the rest of the fleet the time it needed to evacuate the planet and retreat from the system. Once the other ships could get to warp speed, all they would need was a few moments to ensure that the Klingon ships could not catch them. 

To this end, he had ordered _Constitution, Louis Riel_ and _Halifax_ to move in and engage the big Klingon ships at point-blank range. The fighters were assigned to gang up on the smaller Klingon ships – roughly three fighters per enemy vessel – and keep them off the cruisers' backs. As the lead Federation vessel, _Constitution_ was a special target, and both Zhukov and the Klingons knew it. 

_Constitution _was dealing out punishment at an astounding rate. Phaser fire streamed non-stop from her saucer and pulse cannons, blasting into the enemy with reckless abandon, while quantum torpedoes streaked mercilessly towards their intended targets like red-hot demons. One Bird-of-Prey took a torpedo attack directly and without the benefit of shields, and seconds later was vaporized into nothing more substantial than atoms and energy. The Klingons were suffering major losses as they battled ferociously to destroy the Starfleet task force. 

But they were making their enemy pay a terrible price. Space lit up bright as day as one, then two, then four Starfleet fighters took the brunt of a disrupter attack head-on, evaporating in a burst of light and heat seconds later, their crews instantly killed in the blast. And the three Starfleet cruisers, badly outnumbered in ship-to-ship combat, were taking a merciless beating at the hands of a determined and savage opponent. 

Disrupter hit after disrupter hit blasted away at _Constitution_, surging against her shields, testing her breaking point. The assault continued, relentless, gaining in power, as Klingon ship after Klingon ship targeted the Starfleet flagship and mercilessly attempting to utterly destroy her. No quarter was given and none was received. 

From somewhere in the darkness, a torpedo screamed in, ripped through the overburdened shields and smashed against the skin of _Constitution_. The big ship rocked violently from the hit, and a gaping wound, glowing white hot and smoldering, ripped open along her secondary hull.

"Direct hit on deck nineteen!" Visch reported. "Damage to secondary computer core and lateral sensors! Ablative armor is buckling!" The bridge was running on secondary lighting and was choked thick with smoke. 

"Maintain contact with the enemy," Zhukov ordered. "Where is our fighter support? Tell them to move in tighter."

"We're having difficulty maintaining communication with the fleet, sir," Navat reported, her voice cracking under the pressure. A cadet fresh out of the Academy, this was clearly her first starship battle and the strain was beginning to show. Sweat poured down her face, and the fear was evident in Navat's eyes. Nonetheless she remained poised and collected, continuing to do her job despite the chaos and destruction raging all around the ship.

"Keep trying," Zhukov ordered. "What is the status of the evacuation?" he asked. 

"They're almost finished. Five more minutes," Navat replied. 

Ivan did the math in his head. Five minutes. But to be safe, they had to add another five minutes for the evacuation ships to gain altitude, get away from the planet and then go to warp, with a few moments to spare to ensure they had enough of a head start so the Klingons couldn't catch them. That meant they had to hold out for ten more hellish minutes.

"Commander," Visch reported, "there's a Vor'cha-class attack cruiser breaking away from the main body of Klingon ships. I think it's General Kalor's flagship, sir."

"Where is it headed?" Zhukov asked. 

Visch consulted his instruments, bracing as the ship took the impact of another massive disrupter hit. "The planet, sir."

"Damn!" Zhukov snarled, momentarily losing his composure. "Helm, set a course to intercept! Now!" Kalor's ship was going straight for the remainder of the Starfleet task force. Orbiting in the planet's gravity well, they would be unable to maneuver, and with the evacuation still in progress their shields would be down. "Do whatever it takes stop that ship!"

"We're being cut off by a pair of Klingon attack ships," Visch reported. 

"Then order any and all fighters to intercept Kalor's ship, before it attacks the evacuation fleet. Can you determine their target?" he asked. 

Visch checked, then glanced up in undisguised fear. "They're heading straight for the _Khitomer_, sir," he reported. 

The _Khitomer_; one of the biggest evacuation ships. Over nine thousand colonists were crammed, right now, into every nook and cranny of her interior. An Ambassador-class starship, she was normally more than able to defend herself. But at the moment, her resources were entirely dedicated to transporting up colonists as quickly as possible, with little left over for shields and none for weapons. 

"_Constitution_ to _Khitomer_! Raise your shields now! Take evasive action…" Zhukov began.

Too late. Kalor's flagship ruthlessly targeted the _Khitomer_ and raced towards her virtually unimpeded. Opening fire, her initial volley was absorbed by a courageous Federation fighter that milliseconds later no longer existed. A second fighter took advantage of the Klingon ship's delay and pressed the attack, and Kalor turned his attention to swat the insect before returning to his prey. 

That was all the time Ivan needed. "Helm, prepare for a micro-second warp jump. I want to position _Constitution_ between us and the _Khitomer_," he ordered. He loathed improvising, but there was no viable alternative in the circumstance. 

Chief Engineer Renar Saben's voice came over the conn. "Commander, a warp jump within a solar system, and so close to a planet, is extremely risky! And, even if we succeed, we won't have enough power left over to keep the shields going at full capacity. If we take a hit from that ship…"

"…the shields will not be able to absorb it and it will damage our hull directly," Zhukov finished. "Yes, Mr. Saben, I know. Stand by for warp jump on my mark. And…mark!"

On Zhukov's command, _Constitution_ suddenly engaged her warp engines for the tiniest fraction of a second, jumping hundreds of thousands of kilometers towards the planet, interposing herself between Kalor's ship and _Khitomer_ just as the former was unleashing a devastating attack. 

Torpedoes and disrupter fire slammed into _Constitution_ head-on. Without the benefit of her shields, the attack meant to eviscerate the _Khitomer_ instead hammered into the hull of the _Constitution_. Hit after hit tore into her superstructure, gouging out gaping wounds and scorching holes where the hull should have been and used to be seconds earlier. Successive blasts rocked the big ship, explosions tearing open wounds in her skin, exposing her interior and crew to the cruel vacuum of space. The unfortunate victims were simultaneously subjected to explosive decompression, frozen, scorched by radiation and fried by the intense heat of weapons fire. 

On the bridge, all was smoke and chaos. Girders and cabling hung everywhere, and lights blinked on and off with a crazed randomness. Stunned by the ferocity of the attack, Zhukov sputtered, "Report!"

Visch staggered to his feet and checked the damage reports coming in. "Severe damage to all decks," he reported. "Engines off line, weapons off line, shields off line. Life support functioning on secondary backups only. We've got hull breaches on decks four, six, eleven, seventeen and twenty-two. There are casualty reports coming in from all over the ship!" He looked up at Zhukov. "We're dead in space, sir."

Zhukov didn't hesitate. "What about the _Khitomer_?" he asked. 

Visch shook his head in frustration. "Under attack from Kalor's ship. They didn't get their shields raised in time. They're taking severe damage.." his voice trailed off; he could only watch in horror as his erratic sensor readings clinically reported the destruction of the _Khitomer_. 

Zhukov hung his head. He had lost the _Constitution_ in a desperate bid to save the _Khitomer_, and he had failed at that too. Between the crews and refugees on the two ships, almost ten thousand lives had been lost. It was over. 

"All hands, abandon ship," he ordered listlessly. 

Only once before, had Zhukov ever suffered a defeat of this magnitude. He was in shock, numb. Looking about, he could see Navat's lifeless body laying on the deck. Blood flowed freely from the young J'Naii officer's head, and her arms were smashed and broken like a rag doll's. 

"I have nothing left," he mumbled. 

Visch's voice sounded distant, hollow. Zhukov felt dizzy; he couldn't concentrate. From somewhere, far away, he could hear the Bolian's voice saying something about Klingons transporting to the surface, but it didn't make any sense to him. Nothing did. 

Then there was nothing. 


	15. Catching up on history

"What's going on

"What's going on?" Julie asked. 

"That's a good question," Josh replied. Addressing the Guardian, he demanded, "What do you mean, we already have? Explain."

The Guardian said only, "You already have. It is self-evident. Observe." A series of scenes flashed in the portal, too fast for Josh to comprehend. 

T'Katha spoke up. "Captain, I believe I may have pertinent information. Look," she said, showing Josh the results of a tricorder scan she had just completed. 

Josh examined the results, a puzzled look on his face. "But, according to this, we don't have any ships in Pemra system. Only the Klingons," he pondered. "But, that's impossible. I just left _Constitution_ a few minutes ago." He tapped his comm badge. "Travis to _Constitution_. Come in please."

Silence. "Travis to any Starfleet vessel. Please respond."

Still nothing. Alarmed, Kramer asked, "What are you saying? That our ships have just _disappeared_?" 

Stunned, Josh answered, "It would appear that way," he replied. 

"But…how? Surely they couldn't have all been destroyed?" the doctor asked, echoing Josh's earlier question.

Josh shook his head. "No, I don't think that's what happened. If they were destroyed there would be signs, traces left over. These readings show nothing,****as if our ships were never there."

"Indeed, you are correct, Joshua," T'Katha said. "According to my readings, there are no Federation ships, nor any Federation presence anywhere in the Pemra system, including the colony or my research team. It would appear that reality has been changed somehow, and clearly the Guardian is somehow connected to this change."

"You mean we're alone? Stuck on this rock?" Kramer asked. The Vulcan woman nodded; Josh said nothing. "Then what the hell do we do now?" the young doctor demanded. 

"Patience, Doctor," T'Katha replied. "As the Guardian was the mechanism responsible for the changes in the reality around us, it may also be able to provide us with the information we need to determine what has happened here. Recall, it is capable of showing us events that have occurred in the past, both ancient and recent. If we observe carefully, we can glean much useful data from the Guardian's display."

Kramer shook her head. "I don't see how. At the rate the scenes are changing inside the Guardian it's not much more than a pretty picture show. Maybe Vulcans can speed-watch but I know I certainly cannot."

"Then we'll have to be creative, doctor," Josh answered. Addressing T'Katha he asked, "The tricorder?"

"Precisely," the Vulcan woman replied. Holding her tricorder up to scan the Guardian, she asked it, "Guardian. Can you repeat the scenes you have recently shown us. Specifically, your reference that we have 'already have' gone back in time."

"Of course," the Guardian boomed, and the scenes once again flashed in the portal. Using the tricorder, T'Katha recorded these scenes as they appeared, in the same order and speed as before. 

While this was going on, Josh asked, "Guardian, I am curious about something. Are you aware of the Guardian that Captain Kirk and his crew discovered a century ago on the Time Planet?"

"Yes," the Guardian replied. 

"If I remember my briefing on this subject correctly," Josh continued, "the _Enterprise_ discovered your, er, colleague because it was sending out waves of temporal distortion – 'ripples' in time - detectable by that ship's sensors. Yet, in all the time our colony has been here, there has never been a single report of temporal distortions of any kind on this planet. Can you explain the difference?"

"We are awakening," the Guardian replied. "For too long we have been dormant. I merely took slightly longer to awaken than the other. My brethren may still yet be asleep, undetected by your primitive science. Or they may exist in places your people have never seen," it replied. "Now that I am awake, you would be able to detect the distortions you speak of. They have protected you from the changes in time. That is why you remain when all that you know is no longer present. You are outside the flow of the changes in the stream."

"Hold on a second," Josh replied. "Did you say that there are others like you, out there, that have been dormant but are now awakening?" Josh asked. This whole thing was getting more and more out of control by the second.

"Yes," the Guardian replied. 

"How many? And why are they all awakening now? Is there some special reason?" Josh asked. 

"Many others. We awaken now because it is our time," the Guardian replied, characteristically enigmatic. 

"Elaborate," Josh demanded. 

"I cannot. I have told you all that there is to know," the alien portal answered. 

Annoyed, Josh was going to ask another question but T'Katha interrupted. "Joshua," she called out. "Please observe this," she said, pointing to her tricorder. Both Josh and Julie Kramer crowded around T'Katha's tricorder, watching the display screen intently. 

The tricorder had recorded the images that had been flashing through the Guardian's portal. Josh recognized bits and pieces of the history being shown; decades and centuries were rushing by with every passing moment. Now, T'Katha adjusted the playback on the tricorder, slowing down the rushing images to a more manageable speed, allowing the trio to observe each scene at a rate that their minds could absorb and comprehend. 

"That's us!" Kramer exclaimed as a new scene came up on the tricorder. 

Sure enough, the scene presented was like looking in a mirror. On the tricorder's little screen, they could see the very same cavern they were currently standing in. The ruins were the same, and the Guardian appeared exactly as it was before them. 

And there they were, the three of them, looking into a tricorder just the same as they were now. On the screen, they seemed to be intently studying one particular image. Then, suddenly – so suddenly that Kramer jumped backwards, startled – a trio of Klingons appeared, literally out of nowhere. With their vicious bat'leth swords at the ready, they fell upon the Federation group. Completely taken by surprise, the Starfleet officers were no match for the Klingons in hand-to-hand combat. Within seconds, it was over, and the Joshua Travis, Julie Kramer and T'Katha on the tricorder's viewer lay dead on the ground in front of the Guardian, a massive pool of their blood slowly oozing from their lifeless bodies. 

"Gee, that doesn't seem so good," Kramer remarked laconically.

"This is hardly the time for inappropriate humor, Doctor," T'Katha chided. 

"Shut up, both of you," Josh snapped. Genuinely afraid, he glanced around, checking to see if the Klingons were in the chamber at this very moment. They did not appear to be, however. 

"Look, Joshua," T'Katha urged. Turing his attention back to the tricorder, Josh peered at the scene now being played out in its screen. 

He could see the three Klingons laughing over their lifeless bodies – gloating, probably. One of them turned around, giving the observers a good look at his face. 

Julie gasped. "That's General Kalor!" she exclaimed. 

"So it is," Josh mused. 

"But how could the Klingons know about the Guardian? I mean, it's supposed to be top secret, and T'Katha hasn't even filed a report of its discovery to Starfleet yet," Julie wondered. 

"Maybe the Klingons just got lucky," Josh replied. "Their intelligence-gathering capability isn't that great. But, somehow, some way, they obviously gained knowledge of the Guardian. That would explain why General Kalor was – is? – so interested in****this system. He wanted to use the Guardian's time portal for his own purposes. But what?"

"I believe I can answer that, Joshua," T'Katha replied. She held up the tricorder again. "Do you recognize this scene?" she asked. 

Josh examined it for a moment. Though the images were almost a century old, he recognized them instantly. "Of course," he replied. "That's the Khitomer Conference, where the original peace treaty between the Federation and the Klingon Empire was signed."

"Yes," T'Katha verified. "As you are no doubt aware, my father Spock, along with Captain Kirk and the crew of the _Enterprise,_ played a key role in ensuring the conference's success," she explained. 

Josh nodded; he knew the story by heart, but Kramer seemed to have a vexed look on her face.

Incredulous, he asked the young doctor, "Don't tell me you don't know what happened at the Khitomer Conference!" 

"Well, sure," Julie replied. "Like you said, the Federation and the Klingon Empire signed a peace treaty. And Captain Kirk and the _Enterprise _crew was there, too, and did…um, well, something," she finished lamely. 

Josh could only gape in astonishment. He thought everyone in the Federation knew this story!

Julie looked sheepish as she explained, "I may have slept through parts of my history classes."

T'Katha regarded the young doctor for a moment with a puzzled glance, then responded, "Very well. To summarize, a conspiracy had developed between Starfleet and Klingon officers opposed to the peace treaty. The conspirators planned to sabotage the peace negotiations by assassinating both the Klingon Chancellor Gorkon and then the Federation President. It was the hope of the conspirators that these killings would be blamed on the other side, thus re-igniting the war between the two sides and destroying any chance of peace. My father and his crewmates were instrumental in exposing this conspiracy. Though they did not do so in time to save Chancellor Gorkon, they did prevent the death of the Federation President and revealed the conspiracy's intent to all at the conference. Because of this, the peace negotiations were not sabotaged and were eventually successful. The rest, I believe, you know."

"Or so we hope," Josh added. "Remind me to get you into a remedial history class if we ever get back to the _Constitution_."

Embarrassed, Julie asked, "Well, what does this have to do with General Kalor and this time portal?"

T'Katha nodded. "I have been studying further images. It would appear that General Kalor and his comrades went through the portal, back in time to the Khitomer Conference. Specifically, to the critical moment when the _Enterprise_ crew prevented the assassination of the Federation President. The general and his henchmen appear to have altered history in such a way as to allow the assassinations to occur."

"When this happened, the conference was quickly abandoned. Both sides accused each other of treachery and the 'hard-line' elements of each government won the day. This lead to a cataclysmic war between the Federation and the Klingon Empire."

"And the Klingons won." Josh assumed.

"No, it would appear not," T'Katha answered. "The ultimate victors appear to have been the Romulans."

"The Romulans!"

"Yes. It would seem that the Romulans allowed both sides to batter each other to exhaustion, then, when neither side was capable of fighting any longer, they invaded and conquered both the Federation and the Klingon Empire. The Klingons they exterminated, along with humanity. The rest of the Federation races exist in various states of servitude."

There was silence for a moment. The magnitude of what was happening overwhelmed them all. 

Earth – gone. 

Humanity – gone.

The Klingons – gone.

The Federation – gone. 

The bewildered Julie Kramer spoke up first. "So whatever General Kalor was trying to accomplish backfired on him."

"So it would seem. I cannot say that Romulan involvement is a complete surprise, however," T'Katha stated. 

"Why?" Josh asked. 

"The Romulans were deeply implicated in the conspiracy to destroy the Federation/Klingon peace process. Behind the scenes, they were manipulating the conspirators on both sides – Klingon and Human."

"This may also answer the question of how General Kalor learned of the Guardian. Klingon intelligence gathering is not particularly sophisticated. However, the Romulans are master spies. Perhaps when they learned of the Guardian they saw a chance to use General Kalor to undo the original results of the Khitomer Conference. They could have contrived to arrange a situation whereby the general could come to know of the Guardian's existence along with the suggestion that he use it to change history so that the Federation/Klingon peace accords never occurred."

"But why not just come here and do it themselves?" Julie asked.

"Because, Doctor, the Romulans would find it hard to sneak into a war zone with Cardassian, Federation and Klingon ships all flying around. Plus, if something went wrong, they wouldn't want their hands dirty. If General Kalor got caught, it would just be more bad blood between us and the Klingons. Which would be fine with the Romulans," Josh replied. 

"This still leaves many unanswered questions," T'Katha replied. "If we saw ourselves in the tricorder, we must assume those events occurred in the past. The Guardian also implied as much when it said that we have already gone into the past. Yet I do not have any recollection of going through the portal."

"I was just thinking the same thing," Julie replied. "It doesn't seem to make any sense. Any we haven't seen any sign of the Klingons. Not that I'm ungrateful about not being hacked up yet," she added quickly. 

"I know," Josh said. "There's still a lot of unanswered questions, but right now I don't particularly care about any of them. We have to focus on undoing the damage Kalor's done."

"How?" Julie asked.

"Simple," Josh replied. "We're going to go through the portal, back into the past. And we're going to make sure General Kalor and his cronies don't stop the conspiracy from being exposed. We're going to go back to the Khitomer Accords and make sure history happens the way it's supposed to."

"I was afraid you were going to say something like that," Kramer groaned. 

In spite of the seriousness of the situation, Josh grinned. "Look at it this way, Doctor, you'll get a chance to catch up first-hand on all that history you slept through!"


	16. The plan

"Is it just me, or do these old uniforms really itch

"Is it just me, or do these old uniforms really itch?"

Julie Kramer was standing in front of a mirror, admiring herself in the century-out-of-date scarlet uniforms universally known throughout Starfleet as the "flip-tops". The bar on her right shoulder indicated a rank of Lieutenant.

"It's just you," Josh replied absently, pulling on his own jacket. 

They were in a small guest quarters on the planet Khitomer, where the original Federation-Klingon détente had been signed nearly a century ago. It was the day of the peace conference, several hours before it was to convene.

Using T'Katha's tricorder they had been able to step through the Guardian and arrive here just before the peace conference was to occur. Security at the conference was extremely tight, but T'Katha had all of her family's knowledge of the conference. 

It was therefore a simple matter to manufacture three false identities in the local computer database. According to all available records, they were three mid-ranking Starfleet officers assigned to the gathering as diplomatic liaisons. Thus they would have no problems being admitted into the conference. 

Josh had been concerned about altering the databank with false identities, since that act in itself represented a minor change in the timeline. In the end, however, there was no other way to gain access to the conference. If Kalor and his cronies weren't stopped, Josh reasoned, there wouldn't be a timeline worth fussing over. 

At the moment, they were getting into their uniforms from the period. Kramer had spent the last half-hour complaining that they were too hot and itchy, but Josh wasn't really paying attention to her. His mind was on the peace conference. 

Momentous events were to happen here today. Here, the Federation and the Klingons would come together to try and put aside fear and mistrust, to discuss an end to seven decades of open warfare that the Klingons could no longer afford. 

Here, reactionary individuals on both sides would conspire to destroy the peace process. A Starfleet officer, Colonel West, disguised as a Klingon, would attempt to assassinate the Federation President, the Klingon High Chancellor and anyone else who stood in the way.

But, at least in the original timeline, Captain Kirk and his crew prevented the assassinations. Kirk would save the President, while Montgomery Scott would dispatch Colonel West. Captain Sulu of the _Excelsior,_ formerly one of Kirk's bridge officers, would arrest Starfleet Admiral Cartwright, another of the conspirators. 

Kalor had somehow interfered with that timeline, allowing the assassinations to occur. Ironically, both the Federation and the Klingon Empire had been victimized by Kalor's foolish attempt to interfere with the timeline. It had to be set straight. 

Josh's plan was to have Julie and T'Katha on the conference floor, to be on the lookout for anyone who might try and interfere with Kirk's saving the President. Josh had a feeling Kalor would reserve this task for himself, since any Klingon warrior worth his salt would be eager to try and kill the infamous Captain Kirk. 

Josh himself would be positioned on the second floor of the conference room, overlooking the main chamber. Colonel West would position himself in an alcove up here, out of sight and with a good view of the floor below. Josh's assignment would be to make sure that nothing stopped Montgomery Scott from dealing with the renegade Starfleet officer turned assassin. 

T'Katha had been dressing in the other room and now came out to address Josh. He had to admit that she looked resplendent in the old Starfleet uniform. Taking a deep breath, he forced his mind onto the matter at hand. 

"It is time," she said simply. 

"All right. Is everyone clear on the plan?" he asked. It was a rhetorical question, and he didn't really expect an answer. "Doctor," he continued, "it's vital that if Kalor or his associates are on the floor, that you locate and neutralize them. Are you sure you're going to be able to do so?"

Julie held up a hypospray. "Neutralizing them won't be so hard, sir. There's enough sedative in this to knock out a rhinoceros. _Finding_ them is going to be the tough part. I mean, there's going to be so many people in the room, and I'm only empathic, not telepathic. I'll try to concentrate on feelings of extreme hostility, but that's no guarantee. I mean, we're going to be in a room filled with people who've been at war for seventy years. There's going to be plenty of background hostility, if you get my meaning, sir."

Josh nodded. "I know. That's why I've got two of you down on the floor. Hopefully that way if one of you can't stop Kalor in time, the other can."

"Assuming Kalor is even on the conference floor," T'Katha reminded him.

"There are no guarantees," Josh acknowledged. "But all we can do is our best. Everyone ready?"

T'Katha and Julie nodded. 

"Then let's go witness some history," Josh said.


	17. A private conversation

They arrived at the conference hall early, giving themselves plenty of time to get familiar with the layout of the building and to seat themselves in a location that afforded them a good look at the entire room

They arrived at the conference hall early, giving themselves plenty of time to get familiar with the layout of the building and to seat themselves in a location that afforded them a good look at the entire room. The seats were arranged in a semicircle pattern around a podium at the front. On one side sat the Federation delegation; on the other, the Klingons. From the crowd that was already gathering, it was obvious that the room was going to be very full. 

T'Katha and Julie strolled along through the gathering crowd of people, casually looking about, trying to locate their Klingon adversaries. Josh had already left to take position upstairs. 

"This is like looking for a needle in a haystack," Julie complained. "There must be five hundred people here," she estimated.

"Six hundred and thirty-seven, actually," T'Katha replied. 

"I don't know why we just don't use your tricorder to scan the crowd and find our Klingons," Julie grumbled. 

"We have already discussed this. Joshua was concerned,****and I agree with him, that we should do everything possible to minimize contamination of the timeline. Clearly, if someone from this time period were to see or interact with a tricorder from a century in the future, that objective would be compromised," T'Katha replied. 

"I know, I know. I'm just worried we won't find them in time, that's all," Julie answered, a bit put off by the Vulcan woman's constant lecturing. "What if we split up? We could cover more ground that way," she suggested.

"I was just considering that. However, it would make communication difficult. Unless…" T'Katha's voice trailed off.

"Unless what?"

"I have an idea, but I am reluctant to suggest it."

"Try me."

"We could engage in a mind-link," T'Katha stated.

"A mind-link? Is that like a mind-meld?" Kramer asked. 

"Not precisely. A mind-link is a kind of telepathic connection. It will allow me to communicate with you by transmitting my thoughts to you."

"Sounds good. What's the catch?"

"The mind-link is not a perfect solution," T'Katha explained. "It has several limitations and…drawbacks."

"Let's hear them," Julie answered. 

"Very well. First, the mind-link is only effective within a radius of approximately twenty-five meters."

"In this room, that shouldn't be much of a problem. What else?"

T'Katha nodded. "The mind-link will allow me to transmit messages to you telepathically. You will be able to respond by 'thinking' your response, which I will be able to 'hear'. However, you will not be able to initiate a message."

"Well, that's not perfect, like you say, but for all intents and purposes it should suffice. I think we should do it," Julie said.

"There is another issue," T'Katha went on. "A mind-link, like a mind-meld or any telepathic connection, involves the opening of thoughts, shared memories. Put simply, much of who you are, your innermost thoughts, will be exposed to me. Not because I seek out such things, but simply due to the nature of the link. To put it bluntly, your privacy will be somewhat violated, Doctor."

Julie took a breath. "I see. Well, I can't say as if I like the sound of that. But on the other hand, I don't have anything terribly dark to hide. And I think I can trust that you won't spread what deep dark secrets I do have around the galaxy, right?"

"Of course. Any information I become party to as a result of the link will be treated in the strictest of confidence. You have my word on that, Doctor."

"Then let's proceed. We're losing time," Julie answered.

Without another word, T'Katha put her hand to the other woman's temple and closed her eyes. Concentrating, she quickly focused on the telepathic link.

Moments later, she removed her hand. 

In her head, Julie could hear, _"It is done."_

Surprised, Julie thought, _"I can hear you, T'Katha. Is that it?"_

__

"Yes. Why do you ask?"

__

"I dunno. I guess I just assumed the linking procedure would be more involved, that's all."

__

"You are empathic and possess some inherent level of telepathic ability. That made the link much easier to establish."

__

"I see. Guess I should thank my grandmother, hmm?"

"Your grandmother – Imari – she was Betazoid, correct?"

"Yes. How did you know?"

"As I told you, the mind-link has given me access to many of your thoughts and memories." T'Katha paused, then_, "I can sense this makes you uncomfortable. Do you still wish to continue?"_

"You're right, this isn't very comfortable, but I'll survive," Julie replied. _"We need to find these Klingons and this is the best way we have to communicate. At least we can. I'd feel better if we knew how the captain was doing,"_ she finished.

__

"Do not concern yourself with that," T'Katha answered. _"Joshua is intelligent and resourceful. He will manage."_

"You and the captain – you seem to know each other pretty well. You were in Starfleet at one time, weren't you? Did you serve together at one time?"

There was a pause. Julie could sense – whether from the mind-link or her own empathy she could not be sure – that the question put T'Katha on the defensive. 

Finally, the Vulcan woman answered, _"Yes, though that is not all. You see, Doctor, at one time Joshua and I were involved in…a physical relationship."_

__

Julie's eyes widened even as she continued to scan the room. _"You mean you were lovers?" _she asked silently.

_"That is correct. Does this trouble you?"_

"No, not at all. It's just that, well, don't take this the wrong way, but you don't seem like the captain's type. Or maybe he doesn't seem like your type. I mean, I know there have been cases of humans and Vulcans marrying, but, well, what I mean is,"

T'Katha cut Julie off mid-thought. _"I understand your confusion. You are correct, humans and Vulcans do not often take each other for mates. However, you must remember that my father, Spock, is one-half human. I am therefore one-quarter human. In my youth, when Joshua and I were together, I was uncertain of many things. I sought to discover the truth of my identity, to reconcile my human and Vulcan heritage."_

"I know what you mean. My family comes from two different cultures – human and Betazed. And they're different, but nothing like the difference between humans and Vulcans. I can imagine how difficult it must have been to try and make sense of the two sides."

"Indeed. You are one of the few I people I have met who may in fact understand, Doctor. In any case, my father had dealt with this difficulty by ultimately rejecting his human side and choosing to live his life exclusively as a Vulcan. In the vanity of my youth, I attempted to find another path. It was during this time that I met Joshua. We were serving together on the Agamemnon _during a three-year deep space survey. He was – is – interesting, complex, intelligent, fascinating. We grew close during our time and eventually our relationship became intimate."_

"What happened?"

"I do not wish to discuss details. Suffice it to say that I eventually discovered the same truth my father had – that the only viable choice was for me to live my life as a Vulcan. So far as I can tell, it is not possible to reconcile the two cultures in a single individual. The differences are simply too great. When I came to that conclusion, it became apparent the relationship could not possibly continue."

"Why are you telling me this?" Julie asked.

_"Because I have learned deeply personal information about you. Your grandmother would be one example. But to name another, I am now aware that you were orphaned at an early age. Your parents were killed fighting in the Cardassian war when you were 12 years old. You have no siblings, no aunts, uncles or cousins. Your only kin are your surviving grandparents on Earth. I offer my condolences."_

Her parents. Sharp pangs of emotional pain, long dormant, shot through Julie. _"Thank you,"_ was all she could find to say.

_"I can feel your distress. As I warned you, the mind-link can be a troubling experience. By sharing deeply personal information about myself, I am attempting to maintain the equilibrium of our relationship. Do you understand?"_

"I think so," Julie lied. _"Thanks. But how 'bout we concentrate on the Klingons and not swap any more stories?"_

_"Agreed,_" answered T'Katha. 


	18. Hurry up and wait

Josh hated waiting

Josh hated waiting. 

Though not necessarily an impatient man, Josh was a man of action. He could be patient, so long as he could see results – some results, any results - slowly unfolding. 

Right now, though, all he could do was wait. And wait. And wait.

He was in the upper level concourse of the conference building, all but abandoned. Several doors led off the concourse into small observation rooms, with windows looking down below into the main conference room. From one of these rooms, Colonel West, disguised as a Klingon, would set up with a Klingon rifle and attempt to assassinate both Federation and Klingon leaders. He would, or rather, _should,_ be stopped by Montgomery Scott, chief engineer of the original _Enterprise._ It was Josh's intention was to make sure nothing interfered with the course of those events. 

Josh, who had taken up position in a small alcove overlooking the stairs, shifted uncomfortably. How long would he have to wait? He had been up here for what seemed an eternity; certainly, it was more than two hours. By now, the delegates had all taken their seats. The Federation President had delivered a long-winded speech emphasizing trust and skepticism towards progress. 

Now, Azetbur, daughter of the deceased Gorkon and acting Klingon Chancellor, was giving a speech. She was talking about her father, whom she described as an idealist and a visionary. Josh found it interesting that historians in his day were increasingly describing Gorkon not as a visionary but as a pragmatist, one who had formerly been a staunch supporter of war with the Federation. In their view, Gorkon only changed his mind because of the Praxis environmental catastrophe. Every age, Josh mused, had its revisionist historians. The late twenty-fourth century was no different. 

"We are a proud race, and we intend to go on being proud." Azetbur was speaking; Josh reflected on the fact that whatever else had changed in the last century, the Klingon temperament remained constant. 

His thoughts were interrupted by the distinct clacking noise of a man's boots heading in his direction. Hiding around a corner, Josh could see a Klingon-appearing man walking calmly down the corridor, carrying what appeared to be an ordinary tool case. 

Josh knew instantly it was the rogue Federation Colonel West. He wondered briefly why this area, with its good view of the conference area below, wasn't better secured, then realized that West's Starfleet co-conspirators had probably arranged for the lax security themselves. 

West furtively glanced in both directions, then, apparently satisfied he had not been seen, slipped into one of the observation rooms. Josh made a mental note of which one, and then continued his lonely vigil. 

Briefly, he wondered what T'Katha and Doctor Kramer were doing; would they be successful in thwarting any attempt to interfere with history on the conference floor? Bereft of communications, Josh could only hope. 

For a second time, Josh's thoughts were interrupted by another Klingon who had appeared in the corridor. This time, he was a real Klingon; Josh could see that he was armed with a savage-looking Klingon knife. Unaware of Josh's presence, he quietly took up position in another small alcove near the stairs, ready to ambush anyone who came up those stairs. More specifically, one Starfleet Chief Engineer named Montgomery Scott. 

Josh didn't need any history books to recognize _this _Klingon – General Kalor. 


	19. I don't believe in luck

"Have you spotted any of the Klingons we are looking for __

"Have you spotted any of the Klingons we are looking for?" T'Katha asked. 

"No. How 'bout you? Any luck yet?" Julie asked. 

"I do not believe in luck, Doctor. However, if you are asking if I have spotted General Kalor or any of his associates, then the answer is 'no'," T'Katha replied. 

Julie glanced about nervously. She knew time was running out. The Federation President had completed his speech and then turned the floor over to Azetbur, who had spoken on in length. Now, the President was up on the podium again, this time discussing the proposed action agenda. Julie knew the assassination attempt was now only minutes away. 

The President was still speaking. "As you know," he was saying to the delegates, "time is of the essence…"

__

"If only he knew," Julie thought to herself. 

T'Katha began to admonish her. Julie****heard _"Focus, Doctor,"_ in her mind, but events cut off the Vulcan woman in mid-thought. 

Julie stopped, suddenly sensing an overwhelming sensation of hatred mixed with extreme anxiety. Everyone in the room was somewhat anxious, and certainly there were hard feelings on both sides, but the emotions coming from this individual were blaring, obvious, unmistakable. Why the hell hadn't she noticed it before? 

Glancing about frantically, she could see one particular Klingon****off to one side, by himself, nervously fingering a disrupter pistol. Somehow, some way, she knew instantly this was one of General Kalor's confederates. 

These thoughts went through her mind in a split second; at the same time a commotion arose from the back of the room. Julie could hear the hum of transporters re-materializing, and then a great deal of shouting and "Out of the way – out of the way!" 

She knew this was the crew of the_ Enterprise_ beaming down to save the day, but she never took her eyes of that lone Klingon, whose gaze in turn was fixed solidly on one man – Kirk. The Klingon raised his disrupter slowly, carefully. 

Julie could hear Kirk's voice.****It was not as deep as she had always imagined. "Mr. President!" the legendary captain shouted frantically. 

"T'Katha!"Julie shouted out loud. Unable to initiate a message, Julie decided to take a small chance and call out to the Vulcan woman. In all the confusion and din, one more shout probably wouldn't be noticed. Smoothly, she pulled out the sedative-laced hypospray and made her way towards her Klingon target.

__

"I see them," the Vulcan woman replied in her mind. _"You must stop that one from attacking Captain Kirk."_

Them? Julie thought to herself.

Things were a blur, happening so quickly. People were shouting and jostling around. She did not know it, but Julie was practically sprinting. 

"Mr. President!" Kirk again, this time more urgent. 

The Klingon thug aimed his pistol squarely at Kirk, and prepared to squeeze the trigger. 


	20. Kalor thwarted

From the quiet of the second floor concourse, Josh heard the same commotion below; the appearance of the Enterprise officers, their frantic attempts to save the President, the shouting and confusion from all the delegates below

From the quiet of the second floor concourse, Josh heard the same commotion below; the appearance of the _Enterprise _officers, their frantic attempts to save the President, the shouting and confusion from all the delegates below. 

Josh could see and hear Kalor pull the knife from its sheath. It's now or never, Josh realized. 

Shouting the most fearsome whoop he could summon, Josh charged across the hallway, suddenly coming into the startled Kalor's view. Breaking down into a classic tackling stance, Josh charged into his adversary at full speed and slammed the Klingon down to the floor. 

Josh could hear a surprised "Wugh!" from the Klingon general as he hit the ground solidly. Any human would have been stunned by the massive, unexpected blow. 

But Kalor was not human;****he was Klingon. And Klingons were substantially stronger and just plain old tougher than humans. Catching a glimpse of Josh's face, he snarled, "You!" Pushing with incredible strength with one arm, Kalor freed the other to deliver a powerful blow to Josh's chin. 

Momentarily stunned, Josh involuntarily rolled off the Klingon, allowing Kalor the freedom to crawl towards his knife. Reacting quickly, Josh swiped at the knife, which skittered away down the corridor. 

Kalor snarled something unintelligible and then pulled himself up, grabbing Josh roughly in the process. Holding the smaller Starfleet officer by the chest with one hand, the Klingon delivered a series of punishing blows into Josh's abdomen, knocking the wind out of the Starfleet captain. Reeling backwards, Josh gasped desperately for air, his mind swimming in pain from the vicious beating.

Stopping to gloat, Kalor grabbed Josh by the chest with both hands and growled, "I don't need that knife to kill you, human.**** I can snap your frail body in two with my bare hands!"

The general's moment of bravado cost him dearly. Moving with deceptive, unexpected speed, Josh delivered a crippling blow with his knee into the Klingon's midsection. Josh thought he could hear a distinct cracking sound as his knee drove into the general's ribs, forcing the Klingon back for a split second. 

Josh knew he could not last much longer against Kalor, who was both stronger and more skilled at hand-to-hand combat than Josh. Gloating and giving Josh time to collect his wits had been a mistake, one Josh knew Kalor was unlikely to make again. This was his chance; he would not get another. 

Pulling out a hypospray similar to the one Julie had equipped herself with, Josh leapt towards the Klingon and drove the 'spray into Kalor's body. Kalor moaned and howled, and for a moment Josh's heart was in his throat.****_What if the damn hypospray doesn't work_? he thought…and then Kalor fell heavily to the floor. The fight felt like years, but had taken seconds. 

Just then, Montgomery Scott came charging up the stairs, phaser pistol in hand. 

He spotted Josh and the unconscious Kalor. "What the hell?" he asked rhetorically.

Josh didn't want to get into a conversation. "The assassin – he's in that room!" Josh pointed out. "Go!" he ordered.

Scotty stopped and glared at Josh. Josh suddenly realized that though he was accustomed to giving orders as a captain, to the living legend Captain Montgomery Scott he appeared as nothing more than an anonymous Lieutenant Commander. Clearly, Scotty was not used to being addressed in such a manner by a mere mid-ranking officer.

"Uh, _sir_," Josh added quickly. 

His honor satisfied, Scotty charged off, kicking in the door dramatically. There was the sound of one phaser blast, then another, then the crashing of glass and a brief scream preceding the sound of a body hitting the floor below. 

Having done his part, Josh slipped off out of sight, not wanting to risk the inevitable questions from Captain Scott.


	21. It's about the future

"Mr

"Mr. President!" Kirk again, this time more urgent. 

The Klingon thug aimed his pistol squarely at Kirk, and prepared to squeeze the trigger. 

But he never got his chance, as the familiar hiss of a hypospray signified the injection of massive amounts of sedatives into his body. Turning blearily, he growled at Julie for a moment, then collapsed to the floor. 

"Mr. President!" Kirk shouted once more, then leapt towards the podium.

At exactly the same instant, Julie heard a thud from behind her, and the whine of a phaser rifle discharging. The phaser blast shot down from above, barely missing the President, who had been roughly tackled to the floor by the ever-heroic Captain Kirk. 

Julie could hear the legendary captain identify himself, somewhat needlessly, she thought: "Kirk, _Enterprise_."

"Are you all right?" T'Katha asked. 

Whirling around, Julie could see another Klingon slumped on the floor. She suddenly realized she had never seen him. Less than two paces away, T'Katha stood calmly over the unconscious Klingon.

"You?" Julie asked, pointing to the Klingon.

"Of course," T'Katha replied. 

__

Vulcan nerve pinch, Julie realized. 

There was a second phaser blast, a crashing sound, and the sight of an apparently Klingon body hurtling to the ground from an observation window high above. 

"Colonel West," T'Katha observed. "It would appear that Joshua was successful. We should find him and leave as quickly as possible."

"What about them?" Julie asked, pointing to the Klingons.

"When time is restored, they will be restored along with it," T'Katha replied. "There is little else we can do."

"Okay, let's go," Julie answered. Slipping away unnoticed was not difficult in the chaos, and within moments they had met up with Josh. He was beaten up a bit but otherwise appeared unharmed. 

Standing at the back of the room, the trio took one last look at the scene before departing.

"You know," Julie commented, "I somehow always imagined that Captain Kirk would be taller – and thinner."

Josh chuckled to himself, in spite of everything. 

From the front of the room, he heard Azetbur call out, "What's happened? What's the meaning of all of this?"

And Kirk's answer: "It's about the future, Madame Chancellor..."

__

In more ways than one, Josh thought. 


	22. Failure

Still wearing their old-style burgundy uniforms, Josh, Kramer and T'Katha stepped back through the Guardian's portal which had appeared precisely as it said it would when they requested it

Still wearing their old-style burgundy uniforms, Josh, Kramer and T'Katha stepped back through the Guardian's portal which had appeared precisely as it said it would when they requested it.

Stepping out, a quick glance confirmed they were back on Pemra-3, presumably back in the twenty-fourth century, hopefully the way they remembered it. 

Josh felt a bit woozy. Whether it was from the effect of traveling through time and space, or the beating Kalor had administered, he could not be sure. Panting, he sat down on a boulder not far from the Guardian. 

A look of concern on her face, Kramer came over to check on her captain. She noticed he was bleeding from a small cut above his eyebrow, but otherwise appeared fine. "We should get you back up to Sick Bay and check you over, sir," she said. 

"You'll get no objection from me," Josh replied. Picking up his communicator – which they had left behind – he tapped it and called out, "Travis to _Constitution_."

There was no answer. 

Furrowing his brow in concern, Josh tried again. "Travis to _Constitution."_

Still nothing. 

"Travis to any Federation vessel," he tried. 

Silence. Kramer tapped her communicator. "Kramer to any Federation vessel. Please respond."

Silence. 

"T'Katha, scan the region around us. Verify that the fleet is where it should be."

The Vulcan woman did as Josh asked, then answered, "I am afraid I cannot, Joshua. Nothing has changed since the last scan I completed."

Josh shut his eyes and sighed in frustration. Something had gone wrong. Time had not been restored. 

They had failed. 


	23. Deja vu

Something had gone wrong

Something had gone wrong. But what?

Josh was sitting on a boulder in front of the Guardian, deep in thought, trying to puzzle out the answer to that question. It didn't help that his head hurt and his bruised ribs ached badly. Kramer had done what she could, but without any sort of a medical kit she was limited in what she could do. 

Step by step, Josh worked his way through the sequence of events. Stepping back through the portal, they had arrived at exactly the place they intended, at exactly the time they intended. They had managed to get into the conference quickly and quietly, again, exactly as was intended. Their plan had worked, if not perfectly, then certainly well enough. The assassination attempts had been stopped, just the way Josh had remembered it in his history. Azetbur, Captain Kirk, and the Federation President had lived. Colonel West had died, Admiral Cartwright had been arrested. The Guardian had reappeared, allowing them to step back through and return to Pemra-3, just as they had planned. 

Everything had worked out just as it should have. 

Then what? What was he – were they – missing? Why was the flow of time not restored? Obviously, they had overlooked something. 

Josh rubbed his head in frustration. They had been debating the issue for several hours, going around and around in circles, coming up with nothing substantial. Speculation was rampant, but hard facts were hard to come by. By this point, tempers were beginning to fray.

To add to their problems, the Guardian had chosen this decidedly inconvenient time to go silent. No matter who addressed it or how, the Guardian would not – or could not – respond. Both T'Katha and Kramer had even attempted telepathic communication, without success. Though scenes from the past continued to flash by in the Guardian's portal, it was utterly silent. T'Katha had scanned it with a tricorder and had found nothing obviously different that would account for the Guardian's sudden silence. 

"Is there anything abnormal or unusual?" Josh asked. 

T'Katha shook her head. "I cannot say, though there is nothing apparent. I am at a loss to explain this turn of events, Joshua."

"Well, obviously we didn't do something right," Julie chimed in. "The only real question is: what?"

"We've been through this a dozen times. Unless the timeline is much more sensitive than I was led to believe, we should have been successful," Josh answered. "Events at the conference worked out just as I remember them in the history books."

"Indeed, everything transpired precisely as I anticipated as well," T'Katha added. "My memories of the conference are from a first-hand perspective;****the memories my father shared with me. From my perspective, our plan was flawless in its execution. I cannot point to any errors, not matter how minor, that would serve as a basis to explain our failure."

More statements of the obvious, Josh thought bitterly. 

Julie blinked, as if hit by a sudden thought. "Well, if we did everything right, then maybe it stands to reason that someone else's actions were responsible for this mess. After all, it was someone else,****namely General Kalor and his buddies, who triggered the changes in the first place."

T'Katha regarded the doctor with an odd expression on her face. "Most logical. Of course, we have not considered the effects of actions by third parties."

Josh shook his head. "No, remember, we put Kalor and his goons out of commission. That was the whole point of our plan in the first place."

"Maybe it was somebody else, someone we haven't seen yet," Julie suggested.

"Perhaps, but unlikely," T'Katha responded. "There is no evidence of any other parties attempting to directly tamper with historical events."

"Then that leaves Kalor and his pals. But we dealt with them at Khitomer. Which takes us back to square one," Julie groaned. 

Sudden inspiration hit Josh. "Maybe, maybe not," he mused thoughtfully. "Remember, before we left, there were a couple of things we pretty much ignored."

T'Katha nodded. "When watching scenes in the Guardian, we did observe them attacking and killing us in this chamber, yet to the best of our knowledge this has not occurred. Additionally, there was the Guardian's statement that we had 'already' gone back in time, despite none of us having any recollection of such an event."

"Let's take another look," Josh suggested. 

The trio crowded around the Guardian and peered intently into the portal, trying to discern the images that were speeding by so quickly. As usual, T'Katha scanned the Guardian with her tricorder as they watched. 

Time passed, events flashing by in front of their eyes. Then suddenly, they were watching scenes very familiar to them. 

Things were flashing past so quickly that it was hard to make sense of what was going on. But the image in front of them presently was unmistakable. Plainly, it was the cavern they were standing in, with the Guardian in its familiar position.

"Look!" Julie exclaimed. "It's General Kalor and the other Klingons!"

Julie was correct. In the scene, the three Klingons were watching the Guardian carefully, then suddenly jumped through the portal. Josh, T'Katha and Julie studied the image intently. 

Suddenly, Josh froze, the hair on the back of his neck literally standing up. This whole situation seemed eerily familiar, as if…

__

As if he had already been here!

"Look out!" Josh yelled, whirling around.

Just in time. Leaping towards the three Starfleet officers were General Kalor and his cronies, who had seemingly appeared out of thin air. Bat'leths at the ready, they charged towards the Starfleet officers roaring blood curdling battle cries. They had a wild, bloodthirsty look in their eyes, and Josh knew without question that they were beyond reasoning.

This time, though, the Klingons had not caught Josh and the others by surprise. This time, the Starfleet officers had time to react, time to defend themselves and attempt to ward off the savage attacks of Kalor and his henchmen. 

Kalor came straight at Josh, swinging the bat'leth in a vicious arc, trying to decapitate Josh with one shot. Lithely, Josh stepped out of the way, putting Kalor badly out of position. Then, expertly, Josh delivered a nasty kick to the Klingon general's knee, forcing it to buckle beneath his weight. Dropping to the ground, Kalor let go of his bat'leth and rolled over in obvious pain. 

The second Klingon charged straight at T'Katha, clearly underestimating the Vulcan woman's strength and general agility. Easily side-stepping his initial assault, T'Katha assumed a defensive posture and looked for an opportunity to get in close and deliver a non-lethal nerve pinch. 

The third Klingon started in to attack Kramer, then saw his general knocked to the ground by Josh and changed course to assist Kalor. Out of the corner of his eye, Josh observed the second Klingon closing on him and turned his attention from Kalor to this new adversary. 

Backing up, he sought to keep both Klingons in front of him, avoiding an attack from behind. Using a large boulder as cover, he ducked in and around the rocks, evading the deadly swings of the primitive but lethal Klingon swords. 

Freed from hand-to-hand combat for the moment, Kramer grabbed a handful of dust and ran up quickly towards T'Katha's position. "T'Katha!" she shouted, "stand back!" 

The Vulcan woman instinctively obeyed, allowing Julie a clear shot at the big warrior fighting with T'Katha. Rushing up as close as she dared to the hulking Klingon, Julie threw the dust at his eyes, hoping to blind her opponent. 

It didn't work out quite as she had planned. The Klingon did not appear to suffer even momentary loss of vision from the dust, but he made the critical mistake of stopping to hurl a stream of insults and curses at the diminutive doctor. That gave T'Katha enough time to step forward and neatly apply a Vulcan nerve pinch to the distracted warrior, who instantly fell to the ground. 

Josh, though, was not faring as well. He had managed to avoid taking any serious damage, but though he was fairly quick and elusive, the Klingons were both trained warriors and outnumbered him two to one. Blood trickled from several small cuts and bruises where the Klingons had scored a minor hit on him, and it was only a matter of time before he took a wrong step and Kalor ended the fight with a knockout blow. 

"C'mon," Julie said to T'Katha, "We've gotta help the captain!"

"Do you have a plan?" T'Katha asked.

"We should both try to concentrate on one of the Klingons. That would even the odds for the captain, as well as give us an advantage."

"Very well. The Klingon next to General Kalor is more exposed to us. I suggest we attempt to neutralize him."

"Agreed," Kramer replied. Picking up a rock, she aimed quickly and fired it with deadly precision at the Klingon's head. 

Growling menacingly, the Klingon whirled around, instantly forgetting the human captain locked into combat with General Kalor. Outraged at being insulted by a mere _woman_, he bolted towards Julie with astonishing speed for such a big man. 

Julie attempted to sidestep the warrior's attack, but guessed wrong, and ended up taking on the full brunt of his attack. Knocked off her feet into the air, the petite doctor flew backwards several feet and slammed into a wall of the cavern. Moaning in pain, she rolled over and slumped to a stop, knocked unconscious from the tremendous force of the blow. 

The doctor's Klingon assailant also crashed into the ground, his rough tackle of the much smaller human women throwing him off balance. Uninjured, he rolled over and quickly pushed himself up, ready to get back into the fray. As he was getting up, however, T'Katha applied a second nerve pinch, knocking out the second Klingon. 

Now, General Kalor faced the two Starfleet officers alone. Laughing contemptuously, he positioned himself so that both Josh and T'Katha faced him, and swung the bat'leth in a wide arc to keep his foes at bay.

"It's over, Kalor," Josh panted. "This whole crazy idea isn't going to work! Put down that bat'leth and let's talk this thing out."

"I don't think so, Captain. I have a mission to complete and I intend to do so. The Klingon Empire has served as the Federation's puppets long enough. I say, no more!"

"Kalor, listen to me," Josh continued. Hopefully, Kalor would continue the conversation. Maybe Josh could talk some sense into him, but if not, at least it was buying him precious time to catch his breath. "When you alter the course of history at Khitomer, you won't help the Klingon Empire. The only people who will benefit will be the Romulans." 

"That's a lie," Kalor growled. "A trick, to force me to surrender."

"No, no tricks," Josh answered warily. Kalor seemed to be listening to what Josh was saying, but he suspected the Klingon was only playing for time. Josh kept his guard up, and hoped T'Katha realized the same thing. 

Apparently not. Stepping forward, the Vulcan woman added, "We are telling the truth, General," T'Katha began. "You see…"

"T'Katha, look out!" Josh interrupted. In her eagerness to explain things to Kalor, T'Katha had allowed herself to come within range of the fearsome bat'leth. Swinging suddenly, before T'Katha could take advantage of Josh's warning, Kalor caught the Vulcan woman on the chin with a powerful low that snapped her head up and backwards with sudden, jarring violence. Without a sound, T'Katha dropped to the ground like a stone, either unconscious or dead. Josh couldn't tell which. 

That left Josh and Kalor standing. Laughing, Kalor jabbed and swung his bat'leth, daring Josh to make a move within its deadly range. "Now it is just you and me, Captain," he began menacingly. "Fitting. You have proven a worthy opponent thus far. I shall enjoy killing you."

It was at that moment that an object came hurtling out of the Guardian's portal and landed at Josh's foot. Looking down, he realized it was a phaser – an old, 23rd century-style weapon. Without thinking, or pondering this bizarre turn of events, Josh picked up the weapon, pointed it at Kalor and pulled the trigger without hesitation. The bluish energy streamed out from the weapon, hitting the astonished Kalor right in the chest and dropping the general with a single shot. Startled, the Klingon general cried out in surprise, then dropped to the ground, unconscious. 

In the cavern, all was silent for long moments. Breathing heavily, Josh pondered the phaser in his hands. Certainly, it had been a stroke of good fortune that the weapon had come through the Guardian's portal when it did. Or was it good luck? Josh had his doubts, but there were other things to worry about first. 


	24. The hall of mirrors

Making certain that all three Klingons were still unconscious, Josh went over to check on Kramer and T'Katha and was relieved to discover that both were still alive

Making certain that all three Klingons were still unconscious, Josh went over to check on Kramer and T'Katha and was relieved to discover that both were still alive. 

He shook Julie awake first. Unsteadily, she stood up and took a look around. "Well," she began woozily, "at least we're not dead."

"Yeah. T'Katha took a bad shot right on the chin. Can you have a look and see if there's anything you can do for her?"

Julie nodded. "I'll do what I can, but without a med kit there's not much that can be done."

"Understood. See if you can revive her, if nothing else."

"Right."

While Kramer was examining T'Katha's injuries, Josh turned his attention back to the recent series of bizarre events. 

There was the fact that the Klingons had appeared virtually out of thin air. Not only that, but Josh had felt the entire situation entirely familiar, like he had been there and done that before. 

Of course, that could be because he had seen the whole thing previously on the tricorder scan. This time around, he had simply recognized the situation and reacted in time. That was what the logical side of his brain told him.

But there was more to it than that. Even without the previous tricorder scan, Josh felt sure he would have known, somehow, that the Klingons were approaching. It had simply felt too eerily familiar. Furthermore, there was the issue of the tricorder scan itself. Clearly, he had witnessed an alternative history – before it had happened!

He – they – had seen an effect before a cause. Slowly, Josh's mind began to piece together the implications of that, and he didn't like where it was leading. Not at all. 

Lastly, there was the sudden and unexpected appearance of the phaser. The 23rd****century provenance of the weapon was not coincidence, Josh guessed. It came from the same era that he, T'Katha, and Kramer had gone back to, and Josh knew that was somehow significant. 

Kramer's musical voice interrupted his musings. "Sir, T'Katha is coming to."

Josh went over to take a look. T'Katha had an ugly welt on her chin where Kalor had smacked her with the bat'leth, and she was obviously a bit disoriented. Though she did her best to maintain her regal composure and her aloof demeanor, Josh could tell she was in a lot of pain. But – dammed stubborn Vulcan pride, Josh thought – she was refusing to admit to any of it, instead pretending that she was no worse for wear. 

Carefully, he knelt down to face her. "Are you all right?" he asked, giving her a wry smile. 

"I am fine. My injuries are minor and should not pose any serious difficulties," T'Katha answered blandly. 

"I dunno," Kramer answered skeptically. "You took an awful shot to the head. I'm worried about the possibility of a concussion."

"I am certain I do not have a concussion," T'Katha replied. "The Vulcan body is not as fragile as a human one. Your fears are unfounded, Doctor."

Kramer glared at the Vulcan woman, suddenly annoyed. "Firstly, I don't really care how tough Vulcans are or how weak humans are. You took a bat'leth shot to the chops from a Klingon warrior. The possibility of a concussion or other serious head injury is quite real, T'Katha. Even for the god-like Vulcans! And secondly," she continued, ignoring Josh's attempts to intervene in the conversation, "I am a medical doctor and you are not. I am far more qualified than you to determine the extent of your injuries. I don't appreciate having my professional qualifications questioned."

"I was not attempting to question your medical skills, Doctor," T'Katha replied mildly. 

"The hell you weren't," Julie snapped. "You blew me off like I was a first-aid trainee. Don't you _ever_ do that again, understand?"

"You are being defensive and irrational," T'Katha stated calmly. "You must regain control of your emotions before you become more erratic and unpredictable."

Kramer's eyes flew open. "Err…erratic, am I?" she sputtered. "Unpredictable, is it? I don't care if you are the daughter of Spock, our very own Federation royal family! Who the hell do you think you are, anyway?!"

"Ladies," Josh broke in, "We're all tired and beaten up and not in the best of moods. For the sake of world peace, let's table the current conversation, shall we?"

"I was only stating an obvious observation," T'Katha protested. 

Josh gave the Vulcan woman a stern glare. After a long moment, T'Katha replied mildly, "Very well. I shall endeavor to avoid this line of conversation for the foreseeable future."

Satisfied, Josh glanced at Kramer. The young doctor was still angry but managed to contain her outrage. "All right. I'm sorry I snapped. You're right, I guess I'm just tired. And stressed."

"We all are," Josh replied. "Now listen up. I think I have an idea about what's going on here."

"We're all ears. Let's hear it," Kramer replied, relieved to change the subject. 

Josh licked his lips and glanced at both women. "Well, this is just a theory. And it's incomplete. But it would explain a lot of things.

"Please continue, Joshua," T'Katha urged. 

"Well…" Josh began hesitantly, "I think we're stuck in some kind of temporal paradox."

"Fascinating," T'Katha replied. "If you are correct, it would explain our observing the Klingon attack before it happened, as well as the disappearance of the fleet."

"A paradox?" Julie asked. "You mean like the chicken and the egg?"

"Exactly. Effects are happening before the cause. If the entire timeline is like this then nothing outside the protected area of the Guardian would exist. The space-time continuum wouldn't exist in the way we understand it."

"Any creature existing in linear time would no longer be," T'Katha added. 

"Right. But the question is: how did the paradox form? Did we help create it or are we just along for the ride?" Josh mused. "We just don't have enough information."

"Perhaps we do," T'Katha replied. "Let us examine the images captured by the tricorder again. Now that we know what to look for, we may be able to glean more useful data."

"Agreed," Josh answered. He and Kramer crowded around T'Katha to peer into the tiny device. 

"Perhaps we do," T'Katha replied. "Let us examine the images captured by the tricorder again. Now that we know what to look for, we may be able to glean more useful data."

"Agreed," Josh answered. He and Kramer crowded around T'Katha to peer into the tiny device. 

Josh shook his head and glanced up at the others. "Did you two just experience that?" he asked. 

Kramer nodded, and T'Katha replied. "Yes. It appeared to be a momentary shift in time, causing us to repeat our most recent dialogue."

"Sir, look!" Kramer exclaimed. 

Glancing in the direction Julie was pointing, Josh could see what had attracted her attention. 

The Klingons were gone. 

Instinctively, Josh pulled out the old phaser and quickly scanned the room, assuming that the Klingons had regained consciousness and somehow had slipped away without any of the Starfleet officers noticing. Cautiously moving about the chamber, he kept an eye out for corners and niches where his adversaries could be hiding. 

After a few moments, though, it was obvious that the Klingons were nowhere to be found. A tricorder scan of the area confirmed this.

T'Katha suggested, "They may have been re-located within the space-time continuum during the recent temporal flux."

"Maybe," Josh answered. "But to where?" And how do we get rid of the paradox, if that's really what's going on. How can we hope to find the cause of all this?'

"A question!" boomed a voice from behind them.

Josh spun around. "Guardian – are you able to communicate now?"

"Yes," the Guardian answered. 

"What happened? Why couldn't we communicate with you before?"

"The stream has been disturbed. All is not as it was. I am neither my own beginning nor my own end."

"The paradox," Josh realized. "You're talking about the paradox. It's affecting you, too, obviously."

"Yes. The flow of time has become twisted in upon itself."

"How does that affect your ability to communicate?" T'Katha asked. 

"It is difficult to explain. Your understanding of the stream is primitive. Let us say I become…displaced. My form remains here, but my essence is to be found elsewhere."

"You're right. I don't understand," Josh answered. "What's happened that you can communicate now?"

"A shift. There was another shift in the stream," the Guardian responded. 

"You mean that little hiccup we experienced a few moments ago."

"Yes. The shift returned my essence here, to this place. But I cannot predict how long this will last. When another shift occurs I may be displaced again. Things must be returned to the way they were."

"I couldn't agree more," Josh replied heartily. "But we don't understand how the paradox was created, or how to stop it. Can you help us?"

"Yes," the Guardian responded instantly. "Observe!"

Within the Guardian's portal, images again appeared. As Josh and the others watched, they saw themselves peering into the portal, only to be attacked by Kalor and the other Klingons. What followed was a virtual re-play of the fight they had just been in, complete with a phaser appearing through the portal, allowing Josh to stop General Kalor in his tracks. 

"We already know this," Kramer said impatiently. 

"Observe," the Guardian commanded. 

The scene shifted, and now they were looking at the Klingons gathered around the portal, looking in. With a start, Josh realized they were watching _him_ and the other two Starfleet officers, just as the Federation group had watched the actions of the Klingons. 

Choosing their time carefully, the Klingons jumped through the portal, re-appearing in the chamber behind Josh, T'Katha and Kramer, attacking with their bat'leths. This time, the Starfleet group didn't seem to know the Klingons were coming, and the rest of the scene was ghoulishly familiar. With a kind of horrified fascination, they watched as the Klingons mercilessly hacked them all to death.

"So that's it," Josh mused. "The Klingons used the portal to watch events that had already happened. Then they must've jumped through and tried to alter the timeline again, in their favor."

"Fascinating," T'Katha remarked. "Look, there is more."

Now, the image was once again of the Starfleet officers peering into the portal. This time, they were wearing the burgundy "flip-top" uniform they had acquired during their trip to the 23rd century. Josh had the phaser in his hand, and was watching the portal carefully. Josh – the real Josh – could see that the Josh in the image was watching another image in the Guardian – an image of himself, fighting the Klingons. Then suddenly, he tossed the phaser into the portal. Disappearing, it re-emerged in the scene in the portal, and the Josh in _that_ image picked up the phaser and fired, putting the General Kalor in the image out of commission.

"I don't remember you doing that!" Kramer exclaimed. 

"Effect before cause," Josh answered. "A time paradox." 

It was like looking into a hall of mirrors. The Starfleet officers would watch the portal to see where the Klingons succeeded, and then used that information to manipulate time to prevent it from happening. For their part, the Klingons did precisely the same thing – and then the circle would repeat itself endlessly. Trapped in a circular loop where neither cause nor effect preceded one another, the two parties seemed doomed to continue to stare at each other through a hall of mirrors into endless eternity, the only beings in the entire universe that would experience that eternity. 

Overwhelmed, Josh flopped down onto a nearby rock and breathed heavily. He and Kalor had somehow created this monstrosity of a timeline. The burden of that knowledge pressed on Josh, oppressing his spirit, clouding his mind. 

Closing his eyes and exhaling loudly, he tried to focus his thinking. Wryly, he thought, _Temporal Investigations is gonna have my ass for this one…_

Opening his eyes, he stood up and faced the Guardian once again. "Guardian, how can we break the paradox? How can we prevent this from continuing into eternity?" he asked. 

The Guardian hesitated for long moments. Breathless, Josh waited for a reply, all the while thinking, _what if there's no way to stop the paradox? _

No. He couldn't think like that. There was _always_ a way. 

Finally, the Guardian answered, "By your actions, you and your adversary have become focal points. Time has converged around you, and the actions you take."

"You mean me personally and General Kalor?" Josh asked. 

"Yes. To eliminate the shift and restore the flow of time, one of the focal points must be terminated, in a time and place before the events that occurred here."

A tight, pinching knot began to form in Josh's stomach. "What…what are you saying? That one of us has to be killed?'

"The existence of one or the other must be terminated," the Guardian verified. "For the flow of time to be returned to what it was, either you or General Kalor must die."

Josh stared at the Guardian for long moments in disbelief. Then, finally, finding his voice, he objected, "No. There's got to be another way. Some way we can resolve this without somebody getting killed."

"No," the Guardian replied firmly. "You and the Klingon, through your actions, made yourselves the focal points of time. Your use of the stream to frustrate each other's ambition had brought the circle into being. Only by terminating the life of one of the focal points before these events occur, can it be broken and the normal flow of history restored."

No one said anything for long moments. Josh's head spun wildly, as if trying to ward off the incredible revelation he had just received from the Guardian. It was one thing to kill in self-defense, but to actively seek to kill another person…

…that was murder. 

Julie Kramer broke the heavy silence. "Captain, what are you going to do?"

Josh sighed. "I don't know. What can I do? There's only one way out of this mess. And I don't know if I can do it."

"If you do not," T'Katha reminded him, "we will be doomed to exist in this paradox for all eternity, forever playing a game of 'cat and mouse' with the Klingons."

"Easy for you to say," Josh snapped. "You're not the one who has to do the deed…or do you?"

"Guardian," he asked, "Let's say for a moment, just for the sake of argument, that we decide to kill General Kalor, to restore the timeline." Josh felt slightly ill speaking in such callous terms, but he needed this information. "Would it matter who kills Kalor?****Does it have to be me, or can it be anyone?"

"One focal point of time must be eliminated. It does not matter who achieves this," the Guardian replied. 

Josh glanced at T'Katha. "So, theoretically, you could do it. Any of us – or all of us – could."

T'Katha shook her head. "No. As you know, Joshua, I have sworn an oath of non-violence as part of my adherence to the _Khorava_ Discipline. I cannot kill another person, even in self-defense."

Julie asked, "What's the _Khorava_ Discipline?"

"An extensive system of thought designed to guide one's actions in everyday life. The concept, though not the content, is similar to Earth systems of thought such as Confucianism. The Discipline stresses at its core the sacred nature of life, and in particular, forbids its adherents from taking the life of another individual, even in the most extraordinary of circumstances. In return, adherents to the Discipline are exposed to many truths and secrets that, when acted upon faithfully, greatly enhance the quality of one's life." 

Josh eyed the Vulcan woman with disbelief. "The space-time continuum is at stake! Are you telling me you're not willing to bend your personal convictions even in these circumstances?"

"I admit the circumstances are highly unusual, and the stakes are very high indeed. However, by breaking my oath I would put at risk my own personal spiritual well-being. I do not wish to jeopardize this, even under circumstances such as these. I will assist you as I can, but I will not kill another," T'Katha stated flatly. 

Josh gaped at her in disbelief. After all they'd been through, the experiences they had shared, he thought he knew her. At least a little bit. But this,****this was completely unexpected. That she would not violate her own personal principles, no matter the stakes, was shocking to Josh. He had always known that she was aloof and self-centered, but this…

"Fine," he said. "In any case, it doesn't really matter. I have to be the one to do it."

"Why?" Kramer asked. 

"Because," Josh began, licking his lips, "this way I can guarantee that the timeline will be restored."

"Guarantee? How?" Kramer asked slowly, not liking the sudden turn in the conversation at all. 

Josh looked over at T'Katha, who answered the doctor's question. 

"Because either General Kalor or Joshua will die," she stated flatly. 


	25. At least it's a dry heat

Arriaka-Four: hot, rocky, dry, desolate

Arriaka-Four: hot, rocky, dry, desolate. 

Arriaka was an outlying Cardassian colony, one of the first to fall to the Klingon invasion force. Very little liquid water existed on the surface of the planet; most of it was either underground or at the planet's poles. 

Sunlight from the planet's star beat down on the surface with an intensity thirty percent greater than on Earth, and the planet's gravitational pull was slightly higher than on Earth. For a human, just walking around on this arid hell was an ordeal, and Arriaka was at the extreme of what could be considered "habitable" for humankind. 

In other words, it was the kind of planet Cardassians thrived on. 

Josh squinted as he examined the bleak, sun-drenched landscape. He was standing on a high, rocky plateau that extended in every direction for as far as the eye could see. Here and there, some pitiful scrub vegetation fought for life, and small reptilian life-forms could occasionally be observed skittering about on their way from here to there. Wiping his forearm across his sweat-drenched brow, he continued to trudge along in the direction of his objective. T'Katha and Julie Kramer followed behind him. The planet's thick atmosphere made the experience even more uncomfortable; the thick blanket of air pushed down on the trio oppressively, and even the slightest breeze pushed against them noticeably, giving the air an almost plastic quality. 

"Well," Julie gasped, "at least it's a dry heat." She was sweating profusely; her uniform was visibly soaked despite the fact any moisture evaporated rapidly in the heat. 

They had come to this planet through the Guardian's portal because it was the only place that Josh knew for certain he would be able to find Kalor. Kalor had led the Klingon attack on the colony just prior to setting out for Pemra-Three. 

This was important. They couldn't go back to any of the other places they knew Kalor would be – the Khitomer conference, for example – because doing so would merely perpetuate the paradox. The final encounter had to be someplace as yet not visited by the time and space-hopping adversaries by utilizing the Guardian. For that same reason, it could also not take place on the surface of Pemra. Given all this and the information at hand, the available option was Arriaka-Four. 

One way or another, Josh knew, it would end here. Here, on this harsh, arid world that no one but a Cardassian would want to call home. 

Objectively, it was about a day before _Constitution_ would set out from Starbase 313 for the Pemra system. The Klingons had just launched their massive invasion of Cardassian space, and Arriaka was one of the first outlying colonies to be swept away before the Klingon tide. 

Josh now felt very fortunate that he had paid attention to the Starfleet Intelligence reports on the invasion's progress. Because of this, he knew that the colonists in one of Arriaka's smaller cities had put up unexpectedly dogged resistance, so much so that General Kalor himself had beamed down to the planet's surface to lead the final Klingon assault against the recalcitrant Cardassian city. Josh knew that Kalor's presence was unnecessary to secure the city; most likely, Kalor simply didn't want to miss a good fight. But whatever his motivations, he would be here, on the planet's surface, and that was all that mattered to Josh. 

That small city was now the objective towards which the trio of Starfleet officers trudged. Because they did not want to materialize in the middle of a war zone, they had requested that the Guardian transport them to the planet some distance from the city. This was an inexact science; all Josh could hope for was that they weren't _too_ far away from the city! 

As things had turned out, they had arrived on the planet about five kilometers from the city. Ordinarily, this would be nothing more than a short stroll for the well-conditioned Starfleet officers, but the heat – well above forty-five degrees Celsius – the air pressure, and the higher gravity combined to make the short hike an agonizing excursion.

"How much further?" Josh asked between breaths. 

"Two point seven kilometers," T'Katha rasped, glancing at her tricorder. Even she was having trouble coping with the harsh environment. Though she was well able to deal with the heat and the stronger gravity, the smothering air pressure was clearly taking its toll on the Vulcan woman. 

"We should rest," she suggested. 

"No," Josh responded. "We have to be in position when Kalor beams down to the city. We won't have much time to get in position, so we've got make every minute count."

"I must disagree, Joshua. If we exhaust ourselves physically before reaching General Kalor, if will not matter if we are 'in position' or not."

Julie put in, "I've got to agree with T'Katha, Captain. In this climate heat exhaustion is a real danger. We should rest, even if just for a minute or two. Won't do us any good to get there if we fall over from heat stroke just after we arrive."

T'Katha gave Kramer an arched eyebrow. "Doctor, I believe you just admitted that I am correct regarding a medically-related matter." 

For a moment Julie was stunned to realize that the Vulcan was being sarcastic, then she remembered that somewhere, deep down, there was a human part of T'Katha just trying to get out. 

"Well," she shot back, grinning, "the sun's gotta shine on every dog's ass once in a while, right?"

Josh groaned and panted for breath. "If I agree to stop and rest for a few moments, will you two knock it off?'

"Agreed," replied T'Katha, apparently somewhat taken aback by Kramer's comeback.

"Motion seconded," added Kramer, who had already flopped down on the ground and closed her eyes. 

T'Katha sat down next to Josh, uncomfortably close for his liking. "Joshua," she asked, "I assume you have a plan of some sort. Once we arrive at the city, how do you propose to deal with General Kalor?'

Josh nodded thoughtfully. "Um. I've been thinking about that. I don't want to try and…deal with him in the city itself. There's too many Klingons around, too many things that can go wrong."

"Then what do you propose?"

"We take one of these," Josh held out a Starfleet communicator in his open hand, "and we slap it on him. At the same time, we'll use the city's transporter facility to beam the four of us to an isolated location where he won't have a few hundred Klingons to back him up."

"An isolated area? Where?" T'Katha asked.

Josh pointed to a distant mountain range on the horizon. "Up there," he answered. 

T'Katha understood immediately. "The air will be thinner and cooler there. You will not be at such a disadvantage facing General Kalor at a higher altitude."

"Right," Josh said.

Julie Kramer sat up from her quick catnap. "Captain, if you're going to go through the trouble of transporting General Kalor, why not just lose his pattern once you've got him in the transporter? Wouldn't that be a lot easier?"

T'Katha looked at Josh meaningfully. Clearly, she had been thinking the same thing. 

Josh looked away for a moment, then said, "Yes, I suppose that would be so. But…I don't want to kill him outright. Not right away."

T'Katha gave Josh a stern look. "Joshua, the Guardian was very clear on this point. General Kalor and you are the focal points in time sustaining the temporal paradox. In order to destroy the paradox and restore normalcy to the space-time continuum, one of you must die at a point in the timeline before you encountered the Guardian, before the timeline became twisted in upon itself."

"And preferably, you shouldn't be the one to die," Kramer added unnecessarily.

Ignoring the interruption, T'Katha continued, "There is no logical purpose in attempting to reason with General Kalor. He has not proven open to reason in any of our previous conversations."

Josh sighed heavily and nodded, conceding the point. "I know, I know. But this is what I'm thinking. First of all, the Guardian has said that one of us has to die. But we don't know that the Guardian is perfect or all-knowing. So the way I see it, what's the harm in trying?"

He paused for a moment to gauge the reaction of the two women, then continued. "Second, we don't know for sure that Kalor can't be reasoned with. How much have we really talked to him? How well do we really know him? We've got to get him and us away from the city, from the battle, the other Klingons. That's the only way we'll know for sure. Does any of this make sense to you two?"

"To be honest, sir, I'm kind of relieved. I mean, I know we were responsible for the deaths of some Klingons when we destroyed the Bird-of-Prey a few days ago, but this, well, this is different, somehow," Kramer said. "I'm a doctor, and I have sworn an oath not to do harm, or take life. I'm more than willing to give this a shot, if you are."

"You were the one who suggested destroying General Kalor's transporter pattern, Doctor," T'Katha reminded her. 

"I didn't say I thought it was a good idea," Kramer snapped. "I was just asking why, if we absolutely had to kill General Kalor, we didn't do it in the easiest and most efficient way possible, that's all. But I like the captain's idea a lot better."

"I believe it is an inefficient, illogical waste of time. You should consider the transporter solution," T'Katha advised. 

"Aren't you the one who refuses to take a life, either yourself or through direct participation?" Josh asked. 

"I have sworn an oath," T'Katha replied. 

"Then how can you suggest that I should do something that you yourself are not willing to do?" Josh inquired. 

"There can only be one outcome to this, Joshua. Either you or Kalor must die. Obviously given this unpalatable choice you must endeavor to see that it is Kalor who dies and not you. Since we know he will not die unless we intervene, the only question is how to bring about his death. To ensure our safety as well as the success of the mission, the method chosen should be as rapid and error-proof as possible. By transporting the general to the top of the mountain and then attempting to reason with him, you are introducing an element of risk and danger that would not otherwise be present. Successfully transporting Kalor will be difficult enough without intentionally adding unnecessary complications."

"But you're not willing to do any of this yourself?" Josh repeated. 

"I have sworn an oath."

"And you don't see any contradiction in what you're saying?"

"No. Of course not. Perhaps you misunderstand what I have said."

Exasperated, Josh thought, _Vulcans._

Kramer snorted and got up. "C'mon, I think it's time to get going."

"Good idea," Josh agreed. "And no, T'Katha, I didn't misunderstand what you said. I just don't agree with it. We're going to try this my way."

"Very well, Joshua," T'Katha replied mildly. 


	26. Rak ' tiri

The Cardassian city of Rak'tiri was a chaotic mess

The Cardassian city of Rak'tiri was a chaotic mess. 

Bodies lay strewn in the streets, both Cardassian and Klingon. Blood from both species flowed freely, and the stench of death hung heavily in the thick, sluggish air. Fires raged unchecked, adding a choking layer of smoke to the mix, and sounds of war – weapons, explosions, the wounded and dying screaming in pain – were everywhere. 

Josh and the others arrived at Rak'tiri just before sunset. The Klingons had been attacking the place all day without much success. Expecting an easy victory, they had beamed in carelessly without much in the way of organization or planning. But for whatever reason, Rak'tiri was putting up a hell of a fight. The Cardassian defenders were ready for the assault, and they weren't willing to surrender the city easily. 

Early on, the Cardassians had abandoned roughly half of the city to the attackers and were concentrating on defending the other, more densely populated side of the city. At the moment, the battle was raging across an ill-defined "line" that more or less ran down the axis of the city. 

True to form, the Klingons were using a combination of modern and archaic weapons. The Cardassians, in contrast, relied exclusively on modern phaser rifles and were clearly much better organized and led. 

Maybe a retired Gul lives here and organized the defense, Josh speculated silently as the group picked their way from building to building, carefully negotiating the mass of rubble and ruin that the city of Rak'tiri had become. 

After turning a corner, the group stopped in a small, concealed alleyway while T'Katha used the tricorder to get their bearings. Examining the handy device quickly, she announced, "There is a public transporter system not far from our position. According to my readings it is still functioning."

"Which side of the city is it on?" Josh asked. 

"It appears to be in the Klingon-controlled area," T'Katha replied. 

"Any sign of General Kalor yet?" Josh asked, wincing as an explosion went off only a few hundred yards from where they were standing. 

"No. My tricorder does not detect any sign of his DNA. However, I should warn you this method is not foolproof. There is a great deal of weapons fire and other energy surges which could possibly interfere with the readings of a tricorder."

"It'll have to do. Let's go," Josh urged.

Making their way through the macabre streets of Rak'tiri, they stepped over the bodies of many more Cardassians, both civilians and soldiers. 

"I can't believe we haven't found any weapons yet," Kramer muttered in frustration. "You'd think some would get left behind."

"Obviously, the other Cardassians have picked up any weapons from their fallen comrades. They're probably in short supply," Josh answered. Privately, he was beginning to get worried. He had not taken the 23rd****century phaser with him, since the old phaser was part of the chain of events that had led to the paradox in the first place. 

Unfortunately, that had left them unarmed. Josh hadn't been particularly concerned about this, since he assumed that there would be plenty of weapons lying around. He figured they would have easily been able to arm themselves. 

But it wasn't working out that way, and now they were in the middle of a war zone with no weapons to protect themselves. 

No time to fret about it, Josh decided. Continuing onwards, he carefully made his way to the public transport building that was their objective. 

Glancing down the street in both directions, Josh was relieved that there didn't appear to be any Klingons in sight, at least for the moment. "T'Katha, scan that building. Is there anyone in there?" 

The Vulcan did as Josh asked, then replied, "Negative. The building appears to be empty."

"Good. Let's go," Josh ordered. Sprinting across the narrow street, the trio burst into the building. After the string of bad luck they had experienced, none of them fully trusted the tricorder's readings. Josh half-expected an army of angry Klingons to greet them on the other side of the door. 

Instead, the transporter facility was mercifully quiet. The soft glow and low hum of the instrument panels were the only indication of life in the room. 

"Thank God," Kramer muttered. 

Josh nodded his agreement, then asked T'Katha, "Any sign of Kalor yet?"

"Yes. He appears to have beamed down not far from our position. He is approximately four hundred meters from here, near the front line." She looked up. "Joshua, there are at least fifty Klingons in his immediate vicinity."

"Damn. There's always something, isn't there?" Josh asked rhetorically. "Well, I guess we couldn't really have expected him to be alone. We'll just have to be quick, that's all."

"What do you propose we do?" T'Katha asked. 

"Doctor Kramer will stay here to operate the transporter. You and I are going after Kalor."

"Why two of us?" 

"It only takes one person to operate the transporter. Getting the comm badge onto Kalor is going to be the trickier part. If one of us fails, the other will have another shot at it."

"Built in redundancy. You'd make a great engineer, Captain," Kramer said, grinning. 

"Me fixing warp engines? I don't think anybody wants that," Josh joked, glad for the lighthearted banter. 

More soberly, he continued, "We'll need your comm badge, Doctor."

Kramer handed it over. "I've opened a channel between all of our comm badges and this building. We should be able to keep in contact at all times, as along as it's not interrupted, of course."

"Good," Josh said. "Now, once you get my signal, transport all of us to these coordinates," Josh gave Kramer the coordinates of the mountain that he and T'Katha had discussed earlier, "and let's hope you don't drop us in the middle of a lake or something!"

"On this planet? I'd be thrilled to go for swim," Julie replied lightly. 

Josh rolled his eyes. "All right. Any last questions?" he asked. 

Nobody said a word. 

"Then let's go," he said.


	27. The details make the difference

Darting in and out between buildings – or, more accurately, what was left of them – Josh and T'Katha made their way urgently towards their objective

Darting in and out between buildings – or, more accurately, what was left of them – Josh and T'Katha made their way urgently towards their objective. 

The blazing sun was slowly disappearing over the horizon, but not as quickly as Josh would've liked. Unbidden, the scientist in him noted that the planet's rotational period was clearly much slower than Earth's. They had hours of daylight – and searing heat – left yet. 

Then the part of Josh that was a solider evicted the scientist from his thoughts. They had arrived at their destination – or, at least, close to it. 

A full-scale melee combat was raging in the middle of a street. Two or three dozen Klingons were fighting with a roughly equal number of Cardassians, who were using sticks, knives, pipes, and anything else they could get their hands on to strike back with. Josh crouched down and did is best to remain quiet; though he realized it was entirely unnecessary. Between Klingon battle cries and Cardassians screaming in agony, there was enough pandemonium going on that Josh could probably have landed a shuttle and no one would've noticed. 

Still, he persisted in muttering under his breath. "I wonder why the Cardassians are fighting hand-to-hand?" Josh asked, half to himself, half to no one in particular. 

"Perhaps they do not have any energy charges remaining for their weapons," T'Katha speculated, not bothering to lower her voice. Josh couldn't be certain, but she sounded different. What? Not quite - confident. Afraid, maybe? There was a brittle tone in her voice that he had never heard before. 

Josh nodded, then asked, "Are you all right?"

She concentrated on her tricorder, studiously avoiding meeting his eyes. "Yes. My voice is somewhat hoarse, no doubt due to my lack of water consumption." It was an excuse, and a pretty lame one at that. She knew it, and she knew he did too.

He carefully cupped her jaw in his hand and gently guided her head up so that her gaze met his. "Hey," he murmured softly, "we're gonna get out of this, you know." 

She allowed him to hold her there for the briefest of moments, then pulled herself away and restored her air of supreme confidence. Ignoring his last comment, she summoned forth her steadiest voice and said, "I have located General Kalor. He is twenty-seven meters ahead…" she paused while getting an exact direction – "…there." Pointing in the direction the tricorder had indicated, she ordered her eyes to focus in on the Klingon general. 

"I see him," Josh confirmed, slipping back into his captain's persona. "There's only one or two other Klingons in his immediate vicinity. I say we make a run for it."

"I cannot think of another viable alternative," T'Katha answered. 

"So you agree with me?" he repeated, more for the hell of it than anything else. 

"I believe I just said that," she replied. 

Josh allowed himself a quick laugh, then tapped his communicator. "Travis to Kramer. We're ready to move in on the target. Stand by."

The doctor's musical voice came back immediately. "_Aye, sir. Standing by._"

Josh glanced at T'Katha. "Ready?" he asked. 

"Yes."

"Okay, we'll go on three. One…two…."

"Joshua," she cut him off. 

He clenched his teeth as the rush of adrenaline that had been ready to burst was pushed back down momentarily. "What?"

"When you say 'on three', do you mean we should move just as you are saying 'three', or that we move after you have completed the word 'three'?"

Josh shrugged his shoulders. "Does it make a difference?"

"The details generally do."

"Fine. I'll say 'one-two-**_three!_**', then we'll go."

"Understood."

He gave her one more sidelong glance, still concerned for her, then pushed it to the back burner. He was wasting precious time. 

Slowly and deliberately, he said, "One…….two……**_THREE!"_**

In perfect concert, Josh and T'Katha leapt forward from their hidden crouch and burst out into the middle of the street. Almost immediately, the sounds of battle – the clang of metal, the shouts of confusion, the roar of bloodlust, the dull rending of flesh – assaulted their hearing, overwhelmed their senses.

For Josh, every step was agony. The hellish heat – made worse by the fires raging all around them – sapped his strength, his vitality, making every exertion a test of endurance. Every muscle in his body ached in protest; his parched throat felt like glass scratching inside of him with every breath he took. A dull throbbing pounded in his head; sweat poured down off his brow, setting his eyes on fire, impairing his vision. 

Twenty-seven meters. He knew athletes at the Academy who could cover that distance in less than three seconds. But every step seemed an eternity to him. Why in the hell was it taking so long? Glancing over, he could see T'Katha running with him, matching his pace stride for stride. 

To his left a Klingon warrior whirled around and bellowed out in surprise. "Starfleet! Starfleet officers!" he shouted. 

_Shit,_ Josh thought. Conjuring up whatever reserves of energy he had left, he tried to force his body to accelerate the pace, reach Kalor quickly. They were so close…

Kalor finished off his opponent, neatly slicing an unfortunate Cardassian's head off, then stood up and looked about in momentary confusion. He had not yet honed in on what the other Klingon was going on about.

Just about there…

Josh was less than five paces from Kalor, T'Katha almost as close. In the confusion, Kalor had not yet spotted them. With a final, supreme effort, Josh leapt at the Klingon general and slapped the burly alien squarely in the back, pinning the small Starfleet communicator almost perfectly in the middle of his back. Crashing to the ground and rolling hard to avoid Kalor's lethal bat'leth blows, Josh tapped on his communicator. 

"Travis to Kramer! Energize!"

Nothing happened. An eternity seemed to go by. 

_Shit, shit, shit_, Josh thought. "Travis to Kramer! Energize!"

Looking up, he could see ten or more enraged Klingons rapidly converging on his position.

Coolly, T'Katha tapped on her communicator. "T'Katha to Doctor Kramer. Doctor, now would be an excellent time to activate transporters."

Josh looked about frantically. "Where in the hell could she be?" he screamed. 


	28. An unexpected encounter

The captain's deep, even voice came across the transporter station's comm system

The captain's deep, even voice came across the transporter station's comm system. "_Travis to Kramer. We're ready to move in on the target. Stand by."_

Kramer tapped the console controls to activate the comm, and answered immediately. "Aye, sir. Standing by." Looking over the transporter controls, she went over the sequence one last time in her head. She had basic familiarity with Cardassian technology, but now would be a bad time to make a mistake.

"Mama?" came a small voice from behind her. Startled, she let out a quick scream and whirled around so fast a nerve pinched in her neck, sending darts of pain down her body.

Assessing the situation, she exhaled loudly in relief. In front of her was a small Cardassian child – a little girl, maybe six or seven years old, or least she would be if she were human.

"Mama?" the child repeated. She was extremely disheveled and covered in a grimy black soot. "I can't find my mama," she repeated again.

_She's in shock, _Kramer realized without even really thinking about it. Instinctively, she went over to examine the child. 

"Have you seen my mama?" the child repeated pitifully. 

Straining, Julie fought back a sudden surge of tears that welled up inside of her. Choking, she did not reply to the child's query, lost in a sudden barrage of her own memories. 

A small child who had lost her parents….an orphan of war. Julie knew just how that felt. She had lost her parents; they had died fighting the Cardassians. 

She had grown up on Earth – a galactic paradise – as a war orphan. At least she had grown up knowing peace. 

Now, here stood a little Cardassian girl facing the same future – only her planet wasn't Earth, but a Cardassian hellhole under brutal Klingon occupation. 

_"Travis to Kramer! Energize!"_ From somewhere behind her, she could hear the captain urgently calling for a beam-out. The little Cardassian girl continued to stare at Julie, just standing there, unable to think of anything else to ask besides whether Julie had seen her mama.

Outside, Julie could hear the dull roar of heavy weapons fire, the harsh, guttural speech of the Klingon invaders. But she could not take her eyes off the little girl standing in front of her. 

She thought, _This girl is almost certainly going to be dead in the next few hours_.

_"Travis to Kramer! Energize!"_ The captain again, even more frantic than the first time. 

Julie didn't want to leave. She wanted to stay, protect this young Cardassian, shield her from the emptiness of growing up alone. But her Starfleet training was screaming at her – activate the transporter! Activate the transporter! Do it now! NOW!!

Crazy schemes flashed through her head. If she took just a few extra moments, she could re-configure the transporter for five instead of four. She could take the girl with her. She could…

_"T'Katha to Doctor Kramer. Doctor, now would be an excellent time to activate transporters."_

The Vulcan woman's icy voice snapped her back into reality. She was out of time. The mission had to come first. Tears welling up in her eyes, she tapped the transporter console, giving the command to transport General Kalor and the three of them to the top of a remote mountain fifty kilometers west. 

As the unfamiliar orange light of Cardassian transporter technology engulfed her, her eyes met the dull, confused gaze of the Cardassian child. Even as the darkness of transportation came over her, she could still see the little girl's face, haunting her mind's eye.

Fighting back tears, Julie felt new, more powerful emotions wash over her like a tidal wave, washing away all her training as a medical doctor and Starfleet officer, everything she knew about what it meant to be civilized and enlightened. 

Rage. A small child, an innocent, like she once was. Facing certain death. Nothing she could do about it. 

Hate. The Klingons were responsible for it all, and Kalor was responsible for the Klingons. Their invasion was brutal. They were going to kill this child. 

Compassion, mercy, empathy: none of it mattered. Only one thing did. 

General Kalor would die. 


	29. Not a perfect plan

Josh took a deep breath and looked around

Josh took a deep breath and looked around. 

They had materialized on a small, rocky ledge of a mountain that afforded them an excellent panoramic view of the landscape, several hundred meters down. The ledge jutted was not wide; it jutted out no more than twenty meters from the mountain in any direction. A sheer drop, at least two hundred meters down, would greet anyone who stepped off the ledge. 

Although it was still rather warm – Josh estimated the temperature at about 25C – after spending a few hours in the daytime inferno down below, the air felt positively cool and crisp. Inhaling a deep breath, he savored the moment, his last before he would have to confront General Kalor.

Glancing over at Kramer, he asked, "How long until Kalor materializes?"

The doctor seemed distracted by something. "I programmed a three minute delay from the time we materialized. Best I could do," she replied dully. 

"Are you all right?" Josh asked, suddenly concerned. The young doctor's normally cheerful personality was entirely absent; she seemed listless and disinterested. It wasn't like the Julie Kramer he had come to know at all. 

"I'm okay, sir," she replied. "I just had a little trouble after you left, that's all."

Josh considered this for a moment, but didn't have time to follow up. 

"Listen carefully," he began, talking to both Kramer and T'Katha. "I'm going to try and find some other way out of this. But if that doesn't work, then…"

"We know," T'Katha finished. 

"Good. Now, I want to make something clear. If things go wrong, and I don't make it, I want you two to get out of here the moment the Guardian's portal re-appears. Got it?"

Kramer nodded but did not reply. 

"Got it?" Josh repeated, looking directly at the doctor. 

"I understand," Julie confirmed. 

"Good. When you get back, if things are the way they should be, I want you to get back aboard _Constitution_ as quickly as possible. Tell Commander Zhukov or whoever is in command to fire a full spread of torpedoes at the ruins on Pemra-3."

"You want to destroy them?" Julie asked. 

"That's right. Even if we successfully stop Kalor here, once we evacuate the Pemra system there will be nothing to prevent the Klingons from trying a stunt like this again. We can't allow the Guardian to fall into enemy hands."

"Joshua," T'Katha protested, "The Guardian is a living entity. Perhaps not life as we understand it, but a living entity nonetheless. We cannot simply destroy it merely because we cannot control it."

"I know," Josh replied. "But I have an idea on how to get around that." 

Very quickly, he described his idea to T'Katha who nodded and replied, "It could work."

"Try it. If it doesn't work, you'll have to think of something that does. I don't want something like this happening again," Josh emphasized. 

"Understood. Joshua," T'Katha warned, "General Kalor is re-materializing."

There was a brief flash of orange light, as if to verify T'Katha's claim. Within seconds, General Kalor appeared in front of them, less than ten meters away. Their backs were to the wall of the mountain; his to the ledge. 

For once, Josh thought, something had gone in their favor. 

Kalor looked at them angrily. "Who are you? Why have you brought me here? I warn you, I am a powerful man! If you do not produce a satisfactory explanation within the next minute I promise you will regret it!"

"We'll see about that," Kramer snapped. Josh silenced her with an angry look. What the hell was wrong with her?

Addressing the Klingon, Josh said, "My name is Josh Travis. I'm captain of the Federation starship _Constitution_." He eyed the Klingon general warily; Josh noticed that Kalor was fingering a disrupter pistol on his belt. 

"Joshua…" T'Katha warned, seeing the pistol as well.

"I see it," he replied calmly. 

Kalor growled, then said, "You have not answered my question, Captain Travis. Why have you brought me here? Why have you interfered with a Klingon military operation?"

Josh licked his lips. Everything depended on what he said next. "General, we know that your next destination is the Pemra-3 colony," he began. "We also know that you're aware of the existence of a Guardian of Forever in the ancient ruins on the surface."

Kalor eyed Josh. "I don't know what you're talking about," he lied. 

"Yes you do. We know you intend to use the Guardian to move through time, to try and derail the Khitomer peace conference before it happens. We know you intend to change history, let the assassinations take place."

Infuriated, Kalor dropped the pretense of ignorance. "How do you know that?" he demanded. 

"It's not important," Josh replied. 

"I think it is," Kalor countered. 

Ignoring the general's demands, Josh continued, "General, listen to me. The information you got was from a Romulan source. They're using you to change the timeline in their favor."

Kalor laughed. "Romulans! If you're going to lie to me, Captain, you could at least make up something plausible!" He continued to finger the disrupter pistol, and Josh knew his time was running short. 

"Believe it," Josh continued, circling slowly to keep his distance from the Klingon. "The moment you step through that portal, you'll destroy the timeline for all of us – Federation and Klingon alike. At best, an alternate reality will be created where the Romulans exterminate humanity and the Klingon Empire. At worst, no timeline will exist at all."

"What do you mean?" Kalor asked skeptically.

"Your actions will help bring into being a temporal paradox. We'll end up chasing each other through all eternity, no one else will even exist. Everything that you know will be gone."

Josh could tell by Kalor's expression that he wasn't buying it. "Lies!" he spat. "Do you want to know what I think, Captain? I think you're here to stop me because you're afraid. Afraid that you and your Federation will lose your Klingon lapdogs. That we will no longer be your pathetic sidekicks, there only to do the bidding of the Federation!"

Kalor growled again, then continued, "We've been very useful to the Federation, haven't we, Captain? So long as you have the Klingon Empire to do your dirty work, Starfleet does not have to deal with the bothersome task of containing the Romulans."

"The Federation asked for much from us when we were allies, and yet, what did we get in return? Nothing!" Kalor ranted. "At every turn, our rightful place in the galaxy was frustrated by Federation politics, Federation law, Federation diplomacy. And all the while, the Federation grew vast while the Empire stagnated!" 

"And now you come here and tell me I should be content with this history. I say, what has the Klingon Empire to lose? If I change history and we die, at least we will die fighting. Anything is better than living on our knees, begging for scraps from the Federation's table! I say no! It ends here!" the general finished with a flourish. Snarling, he lifted his disrupter and pointed it directly at Josh. 

"You don't know how right you are about that part," Josh replied calmly. "T'Katha, Doctor, find cover. Now," he ordered.

"Joshua…" T'Katha began.

"Do it!" Josh repeated. 

Reluctantly, T'Katha sprinted behind a large boulder near the mountain's wall. Kramer, however, did not move.

"Doctor…"Josh began, then winced as Kalor pulled the trigger on the disrupter. Reflexively, Josh closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable.

Nothing happened. 

Opening his eyes, Josh saw Kalor gaping at the weapon in flabbergasted frustration. Shaking it violently, he re-aimed at Josh and pulled the trigger again. 

Still nothing. 

"Oh, did I forget to mention that the transporter was set to disarm all weapons?" Kramer asked nonchalantly. 

"I think you did neglect to mention that detail, come to think of it," Josh replied. 

"Oops," said Julie with exaggerated innocence. Underneath her innocent tone, there was a hint of malice that Josh found chilling. 

The Klingon glared daggers at the Starfleet officers, then hurled the useless pistol at Kramer in disgust. Shrieking in frustration, he charged like a bull straight for Josh. 

"Julie, get out of here," Josh ordered hurriedly. He didn't want her or T'Katha to help him. As he had explained to them, he needed at least one of them to return safely to the _Constitution_ and ensure the ruins were destroyed, so the Guardian would not fall into Klingon hands. 

Julie dashed behind the same boulder as T'Katha just as Kalor closed into hand-to-hand range with Josh. Swinging wildly, the Klingon missed his mark and stumbled sideways, pulled by the sheer force of his own momentum.

Spinning around behind the Klingon, Josh brought both fists down as hard as he could on the back of Kalor's neck. With a primitive grunt, the Klingon lost his balance and fell face-first to the ground. 

Taking advantage of his enemy's momentary weakness, Josh leapt on the Klingon's back and drove his fist into the back of the general's skull. Instantly, white-hot darts of pain ran up his hand as it connected with a rock-hard ridge. Wincing in pain, Josh drew back involuntarily, allowing Kalor the leverage he needed to throw Josh clear and stand back up.

Tumbling awkwardly from the rough throw, Josh scrambled to get up even as the Klingon was upon him with inhuman speed. Grabbing Josh by the collarbone, he easily lifted the smaller Starfleet officer up and threw him like a rag-doll toward the wall of the mountain. Josh could hear a sickening crunch from his midsection as he collided roughly with the solid rock. Gasping, he floundered on the ground in pain, desperately attempting to catch his breath. 

"Is that…the best you can do, you Klingon piece of garbage?" Josh taunted. 

Kalor laughed but didn't answer, preferring to let a vicious kick to Josh's abdomen do the talking for him. 

Josh's eyes bulged as he reeled in pain, every nerve in his body felt like it was on fire. His vision was spinning, and was having extreme trouble breathing. A hacking cough spat blood on to the sandy soil. 

Apparently satisfied that Josh was not presently a threat, Kalor ignored him and turned his attention to the two women. 

__

No! Josh thought. This had to remain between him and Kalor. With a superhuman effort, Josh dragged himself to his feet and propped himself up against the rock wall. Gritting his teeth, he did his best to ignore the searing pain burning in every fiber of his body. 

"Where…do you think…you're going…you filthy coward?" he called out. 

__

That got Kalor's attention! Spinning around violently, the general spewed out a stream of foul insults in Klingon, most of which Josh didn't understand. But there could be no mistaking the murderous intent in Kalor's eyes. 

Moving with a speed that was astonishing for such a big man, Kalor leapt back towards Josh and was on top of the Starfleet officer in the blink of an eye. Balling his fist, he delivered a crushing blow into Josh's sternum, causing the captain to stagger backwards agony. Regaining his balance, Josh forced his aching body to respond to the general's attack with a flurry of punches of his own. Evading the general's attacks as best he could, Josh jabbed the Klingon repeatedly in the face, doing little real damage but succeeding in enraging the Klingon warrior to the point where he forgot everything around him except the infuriating Starfleet captain who dared to punch him in the nose. 

That was what Josh wanted. It had to end here. And it would end here. It was just too bad that Josh wouldn't live to see the outcome.

T'Katha's words rang through his mind: _Either Joshua or General Kalor will die_. 

Josh wanted to live. He had overcome his moral qualms about killing Kalor; for the good of the timeline it had to be done. He didn't want to die. 

But the greater concern – the _only_ concern – was that the timeline would be restored. To achieve that end, he was prepared to sacrifice anything. 

Even his life. 

Josh didn't have a death wish. He didn't want to be a martyr. He was only forty-four years old, and in the 24th century a healthy human could look forward to a productive life span of three times that. He had always hoped that he would die old and content, in bed at home in the austere, windswept beauty of his native South Dakota.

But now he knew that was not to be. He was going to die here, today, very soon. 

Every Starfleet officer knew that life in Starfleet carried with it certain risks. One either accepted those risks, or one found something else to do with their lives. It was a cliché but it was no less true for it. 

Besides, he had packed more living in those forty-four years than many people did in a full lifetime. If he could not say he was satisfied, he could certainly say he was content. 

Out of one eye, his blurry vision caught a glimpse of T'Katha staring at him, a puzzled expression on her face. No doubt, she was trying to understand what appeared on the surface to be suicidal behavior. But if he could have explained his plan to her, even she would have had to admit that it was logical.

He had hoped against hope he could reason with Kalor, find another way out. That was why he had taken the risk to transport them to the isolated mountaintop. But the Guardian was apparently right; there was just no other way out of this situation.

So either he or Kalor had to die. And he could not guarantee he could kill Kalor. Never mind the ethical qualms he felt; it was doubtful that he possessed the physical skill to kill the general in hand-to-hand combat. 

There was only one sure-fire solution: he could guarantee that _Kalor_ would kill _him_.

That was why he kept fighting, kept taunting the Klingon. He had to enrage the Klingon to the point that nothing else mattered besides killing Josh. With his attention solely on Josh, T'Katha and Julie would be able to escape the moment Josh died and the Guardian's portal reappeared. They would be able to return to the _Constitution_ and make sure the ruins were destroyed, preventing any further disastrous Klingon incursions into the past. 

It wasn't a perfect plan. Kalor would live where Josh would die. The Klingon was a psychopathic monster without whom the universe would be better off. He would live to inflict more pain and suffering on the innocent and unsuspecting. But, in the end, the universe would survive him. 

He was only one man.

Just as Josh was only one man. The flow of time would be restored. The universe would go on. 

Josh could accept that. 

All of this flashed though Josh's mind in a fraction of a second. Time itself seemed to slow down; everyone appeared to be moving in slow motion. He could see T'Katha, still staring at him with the vexed expression on her face. 

Tired of sparring, Kalor charged towards him, murderous hatred in his eyes, his hand balled in a massive fist. From somewhere outside his field of vision, he could hear Kramer screaming, warning him to get out of the way. 

Every moment seemed to be an eternity. Even as Kalor slowly lifted his arm to deliver a devastating blow, Josh closed his eyes, no longer even bothering with the pretense of resisting. 

Just then, he felt something brush against his cheek. It was a breeze, surprisingly cool and refreshing, as if even the planet itself was trying to comfort him at this, his last moment. Josh smiled.

Then, there was an explosion inside his head, and everything went black.


	30. The choice

T'Katha watched as Kalor reared back and delivered a devastating blow, punching Joshua in the right eye with all of his demonic strength

T'Katha watched as Kalor reared back and delivered a devastating blow, punching Joshua in the right eye with all of his demonic strength. Blood splashed out from the Joshua's face as he instantly crumpled to the ground, falling face-first into the dirt.

"NO!" shrieked Julie Kramer. 

Breathing deeply, T'Katha fought to retain control of herself as she waited to see what would happen next. If Joshua was dead, the Guardian would re-appear, and it was her overriding duty to make sure she got back through with Doctor Kramer and make it back to the ship. Joshua's sacrifice could not be in vain. All, however, depended on whether Joshua was dead or merely unconscious. 

Her question was answered by Kalor himself. Kneeling down to examine his fallen opponent, Kalor could hear the ragged, uneven breaths still coming from the Starfleet captain's body. With her superior hearing, T'Katha could hear the same thing, and a momentary wave of relief washed over her: Joshua was still alive. 

Snarling, Kalor got up and looked about, as if scanning the area for something. Then, finding what he was looking for, he strode over about halfway towards where T'Katha and Kramer were standing, and picked up a large stone that was roughly the size of a man's fist. Examining it briefly, Kalor grunted in satisfaction and began to walk back over to Josh's inert body. Crouching next to the captain, lifted the rock above his head and aimed with exaggerated care. Then, slowly, a wicked smile appeared across his face as he prepared to smash the rock down on Josh's skull, delivering the killing blow. 

T'Katha could not allow that to happen. 

Closing her eyes, she brought all of her formidable mental prowess to bear, concentrating on establishing a mind-link with General Kalor. 

Once before, she had initiated a mind-link with Doctor Kramer. Then, she had required physical contact to establish the link. 

But the purpose of that link was to establish intimate contact between two minds, necessary for any sort of telepathic communication. Here, T'Katha did not seek any such depth of contact with General Kalor, and for her purposes a much less sophisticated kind of link would suffice. The less that was required of the link, the easier it was to establish contact.

__

My mind to your mind… 

All she needed was rudimentary control of Kalor's basic motor functions, and even then only for a few moments. 

__

My thoughts to your thoughts…

Snapping her eyes open, her eyes focused like laser beams on General Kalor. She had established contact. 

__

Do not lower your arm, she silently ordered the General. 

Twitching, the Klingon's arm froze in mid-air, no longer under his control.

"What the _flark_?!?!" he roared. 

T'Katha ignored the expletive, ignored everything but the link. _Stand up_, she commanded mentally. 

Slowly, jerking from side to side, the Klingon rose to his feet. 

Kalor raged in helpless fury. "What have you done?! What are you doing?! Release me now, you Vulcan bitch, or I will peel every piece of skin from your body and flay your back until I can see your spine!!"

T'Katha ignored his empty threats. _Turn around_.

Slowly, twitching madly, the Klingon involuntarily complied. Comprehension dawned upon him as he realized he was now facing the cliff. 

__

Walk, T'Katha commanded.

Flailing randomly like a malfunctioning automaton, Kalor slowly lurched towards the edge of the precipice, screaming an unending stream of obscenities even as he marched towards his own doom.

"I'll rip your heart out in front of your very eyes! I'll slice your chest open from your neck to your gut and snap your ribs one by one! While you watch! I'll peel the top of your skull off and drive needles into your flarking Vulcan brain!! Do you hear me, you Federation whore! I'll make you wish you had never been born! You'll beg for death when I'm finished with you!"

__

Walk, T'Katha commanded the Klingon mentally. She did not even hear his pointless tirade. 

Kalor was at the edge of the cliff now. Another two strides, and he would step out into thin air. Fighting desperately for life, the Klingon's survival instincts were in overdrive, producing a torrent of adrenaline, fueling his willpower to resist or even break the mind link. 

__

Walk, T'Katha commanded again.

Kalor took another hesitating step forward, then froze at the edge of the cliff. Summoning every scrap of willpower he possessed, he fought T'Katha's mind-link with all the inner strength at his command. He stood on the very edge of the precipice. Another step, and he would be lost. 

T'Katha could feel herself straining. Her concentration was wavering; the link was weakening. Kalor had overcome the initial shock and was regaining control. She did not possess the strength to push him any further. 

And she knew he could sense it. Roaring with laughter, the Klingon fought to regain control of his body. His legs were frozen, but he could move his upper torso on his own. Cranking his chest around, he prepared to hurl another obscenity at the Vulcan woman, but the gloat died on his lips. 

Glancing down, he found himself looking into the cold fury of the diminutive Starfleet doctor's dark eyes. 

"See you in hell, General," Kramer said simply. Lunging forward, Julie shoved the Klingon roughly in the chest, pushing him towards the cliff. 

Already off-balance, waved his arms wildly as he tried to restore his equilibrium. For a moment, he nearly seemed to succeed, but the force of the doctor's shove was too great. With a diabolical shriek, Kalor took one more unwilling step backward…

And disappeared over the edge of the cliff.

Julie did not look down, but merely closed her eyes and listened as the Klingon screamed for long seconds during his deadly plunge to the ground. Wincing, she could feel the waves of hatred coming from the doomed general as he plummeted to his death. 

Then, abruptly, the hatred was gone. 

Julie looked up at T'Katha. "He's dead," she announced. 

"Then we have succeeded," T'Katha replied.


	31. Farewell, Guardian

"He's coming to

"He's coming to."

Josh opened his eyes and looked around. His head was swimming with pain, and he couldn't see at all out of his right eye. The salty taste of blood was caked on his lips. 

"Where…am I?" he gasped. 

T'Katha's face appeared over him, and he realized he was lying down. "We are back on Pemra-3, Joshua. We were successful. General Kalor is dead, the fleet is in orbit above us and the paradox has been destroyed."

Josh sat up, too quickly. Everything swam in front of his eyes and his head throbbed with unbearable pain. "We've got to get back to the ship. Help me get up."

Both women assisted Josh in getting to his feet, and he limped over to face the Guardian. "Guardian," he coughed, "you said before your essence can move about in time."

"Yes," the Guardian replied. 

"Can you do this voluntarily?" Josh asked. 

"Yes."

"We have to leave here very soon," Josh explained. Every word caused pain, like little daggers stabbing him all over. "I can't guarantee that another incident like this won't happen again. And we will not be able to return to prevent such an incursion from happening."

"That is not acceptable," said the Guardian. 

"I have an idea," Josh replied. 

"What do you propose?" the Guardian inquired. 

"I command a starship – a powerful starship. When I get back there, I'm going to use it to destroy these ruins. I don't want to kill you…terminate your existence. Can you remove yourself from this place?"

"I am anchored to this point in space. But my essence can move about the stream. As I slept before, so I will sleep a little longer."

"When will you re-awaken?" T'Katha asked. 

"The time that passed between the awakening of the other you mentioned and myself is but a moment to me. I shall sleep for that much longer, than I must return."

In spite of his pain and the urgency of his situation, Josh could not constrain his curiosity. "Why? Why do you have to return?" he asked. 

"If you must ask, then you would not understand," the Guardian replied. "I am my own beginning, and my own end."

"Captain," Julie prompted, "We haven't got time for this. We've got to get back to the ship. According to the tricorder, there's a Klingon fleet in the system bearing down on us. We've got to contact the ship and get beamed aboard – now!"

Josh looked at the Guardian. "Forget the transporters. We have something much better."


	32. Closing the loop

"Launch fighters," ordered Commander Ivan Zhukov

"Launch fighters," ordered Commander Ivan Zhukov.

From his console, Visch gave the order, and within seconds thirty-six small, quick, maneuverable fighters streaked out of the shuttle bays of the twelve Starfleet ships and took up position in line with _Constitution_ and the other two big cruisers opposing the Klingon assault force. 

Now, the odds were thirty-nine to eighteen in favor of Starfleet. Maybe, Zhukov hoped, that would be enough to dissuade the Klingons from a major engagement. Maybe that obstinate Klingon general would recognize he was in too deep and back off. It was probably a vain hope, Ivan reflected, but he had to try. 

"This is Commander Zhukov on board the _Constitution_ to the Klingon flagship. It is you who is outnumbered. Stand down, withdraw, and allow our evacuation to proceed. Our only concern is evacuating our civilian population. This situation can still be resolved without resorting to violence. Please respond."

For a long moment, the Klingon ships seemed to pause, as if considering the situation. For the tiniest fraction of an instant, Ivan held his breath, daring to hope against hope that the Klingons might actually use their brains and avoid a pointless battle. Maybe they would see that a fight was completely unnecessary; that all they had to do to take possession of this system was allow the Starfleet task force to leave. 

Then, the moment passed, and hopes shattered. The Klingon vessels pressed forward, shields up, weapons charged. 

In mere moments, the battle was joined. Starfleet and Klingon vessels hurtled directly towards one another, sending streams of lethal firepower smashing against the shields and hulls of one another's ships. 

__

Constitution rocked as she took a hit from one, then another, then another Klingon vessel. _Thoom, thoom, thoom_.

"Damage report!" ordered Zhukov.

"Shields down to fifty-six percent," replied Visch. "We've got minor damage to the main deflector and secondary command processors. Sir, the Klingon flagship is attempting to break off from the main group! I think they're making a run for our ships in orbit of the planet."

Ivan could not allow that to happen. "Cut them off," he ordered. "Helm, bring us about, bearing oh-three seven mark nine. Increase to two-thirds impulse and engage the Klingon flagship with all available weapons."

"We've got two Birds-of-Prey attempting to cut _us_ off, Commander," Visch replied. Glancing up from his console, his eyes wide with fear, he added, "Sir, I think the flagship is going straight for the _Khitomer_."

Zhukov thought quickly. If _Constitution_ tried to fight its way through the pair of Birds-of-Prey, she would be able to do so. But the delay would be more than enough time to give the Klingon battleship the opportunity to score an easy hit against the defenseless _Khitomer_, with her shields down and her attention focused on transporting the colony's civilians off the planet. On the other hand, if _Constitution_ ignored the two other ships, they would score too many easy hits on _Constitution,_ leaving her dangerously exposed to further attack. Worse, there was every chance that the Klingon flagship would still reach the _Khitomer_ before _Constitution_ could stop her. 

There was only one way to guarantee that _Constitution_ would be able to cut off the Klingon ship. "Helm, prepare for a micro-second warp jump. I want to position _Constitution_ between us and the _Khitomer_," Zhukov ordered.

Chief Engineer Renar Saben's voice came over the conn. "Commander, a warp jump within a solar system, and so close to a planet, is extremely risky! And****even if we succeed, we won't have enough power left over to keep the shields going at full capacity. If we take a hit from that ship…"

"…the shields will not be able to absorb it and it will damage our hull directly," Zhukov finished. "Yes, Mr. Saben, I know. Stand by for warp jump on my mark. And…"

Zhukov was cut off, mid-sentence, and gaped dumbfounded as Captain Travis suddenly and unexpectedly appeared on the bridge, apparently from his Ready Room. He presented a bizarre sight that Zhukov could only stare at, dumbfounded, for a long moment. 

Oddly, Travis was wearing an archaic, old-style "flip top" uniform. He was badly bruised and bleeding profusely, as if he had recently been in a serious fight. Cuts and scars crossed his face, and one eye was almost entirely swollen shut.

"Captain…what…" Zhukov began.

"I'll explain later, Commander," Travis croaked. He sounded even worse than he looked. "Navat, is everyone off the planet?"

"Aye, sir," Navat replied. "The last evacuation is now complete.

"Good. Mr. Visch, target a full spread of quantum torpedoes on these coordinates and _fire!_" he ordered. 

Visch examined the coordinates. "Sir, you want me to destroy the ruins on the planet?" he asked, puzzled. 

Josh became even more insistent. "That's correct, Commander. I promise I'll explain later. Now target your weapons and FIRE!"

Visch didn't understand, but his captain had given him an order. Tapping the commands on his console, he pressed one last key. 

"Torpedoes away!" he announced. 

A full spread of the powerful quantum torpedoes, twenty in all, burst out of _Constitution's _forward torpedo launcher and screamed down towards the ancient ruins and slammed into the surface with unimaginable explosive force. The surface of the planet shook and rumbled as the powerful torpedoes incinerated the ruins and everything else in a five hundred kilometer radius. A massive plume cloud of dust and gas, visible from space, rose up from the surface like the funeral pyre of some ancient, powerful god. 

"Target destroyed," Visch reported somberly. 

Everything was deadly quiet on the bridge. "Hail the lead Klingon vessel, Lieutenant Navat."

Navat complied and reported, "Channel open, sir."

Josh licked his parched lips. It hurt to talk; every word was agony. But he _had _to get this out. "This is Captain Joshua Travis of the Federation starship _Constitution_ to the lead Klingon vessel. I know why you're here and we have destroyed every artifact on the planet's surface. There's no more reason to fight over this planet. Stand down, let us complete our evacuation, and we will leave this system peacefully within the hour. We have no wish to engage in further hostilities. Don't force us to do so."

Josh could only hope that the Klingon general in _this_ timeline had the same information and mission that Kalor did. If so, the apparent destruction of the Guardian would eliminate the only reason the Klingon assault force was pressing the issue to capture this system. 

Seconds dragged by the on the bridge. No one said anything; everyone held their breath, waiting for the Klingons' response. 

Finally, a reply came back over audio only. Even without seeing his face, Josh could hear the impotent rage in the voice of the Klingon commander. "This is General Kovak of the _Raktar_. You have one hour to complete your evacuation,****no more! After that, if you want to live past this day, be somewhere else.

__

Raktar out."

Josh blinked, then looked at the screen for long seconds, not quite willing to believe his good luck. The Klingons had backed down. There would be no battle here today. The evacuation would be successful.

It was over. 


	33. Epilogue

"Captain's log, stardate 49036 __

"Captain's log, stardate 49036.2.

"We have successfully completed the evacuation of the Pemra-3 colony. The colonists have been transported to Starbase 313 where they will be transported to new homes according to their wishes.

"Constitution _suffered some damage during our engagements with the Klingons, which is currently being repaired here at Starbase 313. Despite this, I am pleased to report that ship and crew performed extremely well._

"Once all repairs are complete, we will set course to Evlar Prime,****a distant, neutral world, for a routine trade and diplomatic mission. Until then, I look forward to a few days of rest and recuperation.

"End log."

Josh stood in his small captain's office, just off the main bridge, and carefully surveyed the room. In the scramble to evacuate Pemra-3, he had never gotten around to unpacking and setting up the office. Now, he reflected with satisfaction, the place was truly _his_.

On one wall, there was his fishing rod given to him as a child by his grandfather. In the opposite corner, a small shelf containing his collection of rare and ancient books, gathered over half a lifetime. On a small shelf next to his desk, the most prized possession of all;****an exquisitely ornate chess set, each piece painstaking carved from a rock sample from each world Josh had visited in his travels. Polished to perfection, it would be the envy of collectors anywhere. 

Just as he was setting up the last piece, the familiar door chime sang out, requesting permission to allow someone into this inner sanctum.

For the tiniest second, Josh delayed. Then he called out, "Come in."

The door swooshed open, revealing the tall, statuesque figure of T'Katha. Taken aback, Josh noticed immediately she was in full Starfleet uniform.

Josh stared at her for a moment, then said, "Come in."

Immediately, T'Katha stepped in with the same regal, self-confident stride Josh had always known. "Captain," she began.

Josh cocked his head, puzzled. "T'Katha," he began slowly, "I can't help but notice you're back in uniform."

"Aye, sir. Lieutenant Commander T'Katha, reporting for duty, sir."

"Say again?" Josh queried. 

"Lieutenant Commander T'Katha, Chief Science Officer, U.S.S. _Constitution_, reporting for duty, sir," T'Katha repeated.

"Chief Science Officer?" Josh asked. 

"Correct, sir. You seem to be experiencing some difficulty with your hearing. Perhaps you are not fully recovered from your ordeal with General Kalor?"

"I'm fine," Josh reassured her dryly. 

"Indeed. Obviously, I have returned to Starfleet at my previously commissioned rank of Lieutenant Commander. I have been assigned to the previously-vacant position of Chief Science Officer aboard this vessel, sir."

"Assigned? By who?"

"I spoke with Admiral Quinn this morning. She has agreed to fast-track my assignment to this vessel to serve in the capacity of Chief Science Officer. Pending your approval, of course, sir."

Josh gaped, dumbfounded. "You didn't leave Starfleet on the best of terms, T'Katha. If I recall correctly, when you left, you were pretty clear about it being for good."

"Yes, sir, I did express sentiments to that effect."

"Then, what changed your mind? Why come back? And why here, and now?"

T'Katha paused, and Josh could almost see the wheels turning in her head. Should she answer his question? If so, then how completely? Just how much should she reveal and how much should she hold back?

Arrogant self-assurance sure made for a lot of extra thinking, Josh mused silently. 

Finally, T'Katha replied evenly, "As you know, as part of the _Khorava_ discipline, I have sworn an oath not to take the life of any other living person, whether in aggression or in self-defense. This oath was and is, much more than a simple statement of intent. It is deeply integrated into my system of beliefs, the values by which I try to live my life and interact with others.

"Nonetheless, during your battle with General Kalor, it became apparent to me that you were not going to be successful. You had stated that it was your intent to kill General Kalor or to die in the attempt. Either death would have eliminated one focal point in time, thereby terminating the temporal paradox and restoring the normal flow of time.

"Although Kalor was both stronger and more skilled then yourself, I am familiar with your own martial skills and it was obvious to me that you were not putting forth your best effort. Rather, you were only providing enough opposition to ensure that the general continued the fight and would not attempt to retreat.

"In short, I was forced to conclude that you did not intend to kill General Kalor, but rather, intended on allowing him to kill you. In this manner you could guarantee that the flow of time would be restored, though of course it meant sacrificing yourself."

Josh could only stare, shocked at just how well this woman still knew him. 

"I realized all of this as Kalor struck you across your skull, rendering you unconscious, and was preparing to administer the killing blow. At that moment, I simply found your death…unacceptable.

"Therefore, I took action. Using a crude telepathic link I was able to force him to step over the cliff, thereby causing his death, saving your life and restoring the timeline."

"Well, thanks," Josh answered flatly. He wasn't quite certain what T'Katha was trying to say, and he was groping for words of his own. 

"It is ironic," T'Katha continued. "In the end, you were prepared to sacrifice your life to avoid killing another. And yet I, who have sworn an oath not to take another life, was unable to live by what I considered to be my most sacred principles when confronted with the moment of truth."

"Don't be too hard on yourself," Josh advised. "Standing around and doing nothing is always tough when your friends are in danger. It's a normal instinct to do something."

"Nonetheless," T'Katha replied, "I have committed what humans might call an unforgivable sin. I have violated a sacred oath I have sworn to live my life by. A price must be paid for this. Penance must be served."

Josh raised an eyebrow and asked, somewhat incredulously, "Are you saying your serving on this ship is to _punish_ yourself? A kind of atonement?"

T'Katha nodded. "A crude analogy, but essentially, yes, that is correct."

"I don't know what to say," Josh replied thoughtfully. "To be honest, I'm not sure I want a senior officer who regards her presence here as a kind of punishment."

"You need not concern yourself with that. My personal philosophical convictions will not affect my performance. As long as I am here I will endeavor to serve you and my fellow officers to the very best of my ability."

Josh thought about it. He had to admit to himself that her presence on the ship would be uncomfortable to him, personally. But he was a professional; he could and would be able to work around his own personal feelings.

T'Katha's reasons for being here didn't thrill Josh.****He liked to think that serving on _Constitution_ was a privilege, not a punishment, but she had given him his word that she would give her best effort at all times. Josh knew her well enough to know that once given, T'Katha's word was as good as anything. 

And there could be no disputing her qualifications for the job. Finally, he made his decision. Tapping his comm badge, he called out, "Travis to Lieutenant Navat."

_"Navat here, sir."_

"Please find suitable quarters for our new Chief Science Officer, Lieutenant Commander T'Katha."

_"Aye, sir_._"_

"Travis out."

Facing T'Katha, he let a broad grin slip across his face as he extended his right hand and said, "Welcome aboard."

T'Katha clasped his hand and shook it formally, briefly. 

"Thank****you, sir," she replied. Then, without another word, she spun around and strode out of Josh's office, ready to take her place among the crew.

The door swished shut, and Josh was again alone with his thoughts. T'Katha coming aboard, serving under his command, was not entirely a welcome turn of events. It stirred old memories, feelings long buried. But he could sort out his personal issues later, possibly with the help of Counselor Jylana.

He turned his thoughts to recent events. Everything had turned out pretty well, but there were, as always, a number of loose ends to the whole episode that Josh supposed might never be resolved. 

The Guardian had agreed to suspend itself in time, but only for a century or so. A hundred years from now, someone else would have to deal with its re-appearance. Josh didn't like the idea of deferring a headache like that to a future generation, but he didn't see any other available alternative. 

Other Guardians were "re-awakening," it had told Josh. Where were they, and why were they re-appearing in this epoch of time? Josh didn't know.

Then there were the Romulans skulking about in the shadows. Their involvement was implicated in the Klingons' learning about the existence of the Guardian. But nothing, of course, could be proved. Josh could only wonder where the Romulans would turn up next. 

Lastly, Josh still had to face a debriefing from Starfleet's Temporal Investigations division. Among the most humorless servants of Starfleet's vast apparatus, they frowned upon any interference in the affairs of the space-time continuum by any Starfleet officer. Nevertheless, Josh felt confident he could adequately explain his actions, and Admiral Quinn was prepared to back him up on this one. 

Thinking of these things, Josh sat down behind his desk and reclined in the comfortable chair. Closing his eyes, he allowed himself to relax for just the briefest of moments. 

Yes, he decided, there were unanswered questions, untidy loose ends. But he would have to table them for now. Soon, _Constitution_ would begin its ongoing mission on the frontiers of Federation space. 

It was a dangerous time. The Dominion, the Borg, the Klingons, the Romulans – it seemed that no matter where one looked, Starfleet was confronted with hostile and powerful enemies bent upon the Federation's destruction. As one of Starfleet's most powerful ships, _Constitution_ would no doubt be involved in many future conflicts with these and other adversaries. 

But war and battles were not the only reasons for the existence of Starfleet and _Constitution_, nor even the primary reasons. There were cosmic mysteries to investigate, uncharted regions of space to map out, new species and civilizations to discover. In spite of her duty to defend the Federation, _Constitution_ would still have the opportunity to do all of these things…

And maybe even, with luck, find some strange new worlds to explore. 


End file.
